08-25-2016, 12:40 PM
Njenyi hates winter.
The stories he remembers being told as a child did not include how bitter the wind was or how sharply the ice stings when it is driven sideways up under the meager winter coat he has managed to grow.
Half his blood was meant for the ever-warm savanna, but he feels that all of his soul was. Were it not for the small harem he has already gathered he would have left the bitter seasons of Beqanna for his golden birthplace in an instant. But he cannot. Njenyi's offspring have begun to stretch the bellies of their mothers in the Gemstone Ridge, and to abandon a mare in foal is simply never done: The idea never crosses his mind.
What does cross his mind is the desire to find more mares, to gather a herd large enough to keep them all warm. Extra eyes and ears will never go awry, and when spring finally comes and the foals stretch their legs, their mothers will be grateful for aunties to help keep watch.
So this is why he slogs through the snowy Feild, why he passes by a bay pony stallion who is ignoring the mare that Njenyi approaches. She looks young and strong, appealing attributes for the red and white stallion. He presses forward, past the traditional Beqanna "personal space" and nips at her withers in claim. Using his heavy jaw, he attempts to guide her back, pushing her toward the Gemstone Ridge.
The stories he remembers being told as a child did not include how bitter the wind was or how sharply the ice stings when it is driven sideways up under the meager winter coat he has managed to grow.
Half his blood was meant for the ever-warm savanna, but he feels that all of his soul was. Were it not for the small harem he has already gathered he would have left the bitter seasons of Beqanna for his golden birthplace in an instant. But he cannot. Njenyi's offspring have begun to stretch the bellies of their mothers in the Gemstone Ridge, and to abandon a mare in foal is simply never done: The idea never crosses his mind.
What does cross his mind is the desire to find more mares, to gather a herd large enough to keep them all warm. Extra eyes and ears will never go awry, and when spring finally comes and the foals stretch their legs, their mothers will be grateful for aunties to help keep watch.
So this is why he slogs through the snowy Feild, why he passes by a bay pony stallion who is ignoring the mare that Njenyi approaches. She looks young and strong, appealing attributes for the red and white stallion. He presses forward, past the traditional Beqanna "personal space" and nips at her withers in claim. Using his heavy jaw, he attempts to guide her back, pushing her toward the Gemstone Ridge.