The stalion found himself in tall grass, he lifted his head, barely seeing above the blades. His dark coat making the summer heat hotter. He was sweating, and miserable.
He finially comes to where it's shorn down by generation upon generation of grazing. He's timid, always getting missed and nearly trampled has a way of doing that. He sifts through the sceen, His two orbes of the sky catch a mare. She looks shy, even more than he himself would admit. He puts his head up, trying to appear taller, closer to her height. At only 8.2 hands, that would be quite the feat. He whinnies as he gets closer, to not startle her. He startles himself with his own whiney, making poor Dungaree jump. He's always been a loner, but he hopes oneday he won't be.
He finially comes to where it's shorn down by generation upon generation of grazing. He's timid, always getting missed and nearly trampled has a way of doing that. He sifts through the sceen, His two orbes of the sky catch a mare. She looks shy, even more than he himself would admit. He puts his head up, trying to appear taller, closer to her height. At only 8.2 hands, that would be quite the feat. He whinnies as he gets closer, to not startle her. He startles himself with his own whiney, making poor Dungaree jump. He's always been a loner, but he hopes oneday he won't be.