it's in my roots, in my veins - any

[Texas]

there was something in the water, now that something's in me

i can't go back, but the reeds are growing out of my fingertips

Though war hangs on the horizon like a second sun refusing to rise, there is no sign of it in the kingdom.

Spring is upon them, and the meadows are full of wildflowers and stumbling fawns. The forests are cool and quiet, and the ground between the trees is littered with the sapling of the most common trees in the kingdom – oak, beech, hickory, and chestnut. The air is warm , and the morning dew has only just evaporated from the greenery.

Texas walks beside the river that flows from the waterfall, pausing now and then to kick a rock or branch into the flowing water but never turning to watch it drift downstream. He has contemplated announcing the competition he had discussed with the members of the kingdom, but knows that war time is not a good time for that, Best to wait until after, when loyalties are less sure, when horses might find themselves looking for a kingdom that has less restrictions.

He needs to mock, needs to steal, needs to recruit, but for now he simply walks along the edge of the river in search of something to distract him.

texas