Don't you dare for get the sun (Any)

[Texas]

and I discovered that my castles stand

upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

The snow here is deeper than in the Falls, and Texas has been eyeing it irritably from the shelter of the forest. He is thirsty, but the creek bank is at least fifteen feet from where he stands in the shallow drifts at the trees’ edge. It would infinitely easier to forge ahead and deal with the cold, but Texas has almost made up his mind to return home for a drink.

He’s even shifted his weight to turn away when he hears the sound of hooves crunching through the snow. Turning his head, he spots a mare making her way toward the creek.

Well.

He can’t not do something that a mare can, so he takes a single tentative step into the deeper snow, sighs, and then makes his chilly way toward the creek. He drinks from the space in the ice that the mare had chipped away, and when he is sated turns toward where she stands beneath the shelter of a low-hanging pine branch. With little else to do on this bright and cold winter day, the bay stallion walks in her tracks until he’s close enough to speak. “ S’ cold, huh?”

He’s articulate and elegant; the very definition of a gentleman.

texas