09-09-2016, 08:50 PM
The happy chill of autumn had given way to the harsh reality of winter. And though his metallic-looking coat was full and ready, his soul was not. Moggett hated the wintertime. His small body can be found beneath a large pine on the edge of the field where he attempts to shield himself from the wind and the snow. Snow was another of his many reasons to have distaste for this particular season. When one is small, snow can hamper freedom of movement tremendously. And though he is not as small as his poor mother, size has never been one of his assets. He continually tells himself it’s what on the inside that really matters anyway. (Right, Moggett… right…)
He had been a drifter, a nomad simply managing his existence on the edges of their established society. But then things had changed rather suddenly and his typical haunts were suddenly full to the brim of homeless horses. He wasn’t one for crowds, but he also thought this might be as good a time as any to try to do something with his life. He wasn’t what you would call ambitious, but he was getting to an age where a certain clock began to tick and the bachelor life was not quite as appealing as it once was. He knows he is not the most glamorous catch as far as males go, but he is willing to put himself out there at least. (Good on you, Moggett)
Where he lacks in height, he does make up for in strength and determination. He is a strong little man and he has heart, which is more than he can say of some of the males he has encountered in his years of wandering. His features are also gentle enough on the eyes, though not overly friendly (it gives him a sort of charm). So as he stands beneath his pine, frigid, he considers himself a decent enough recruit to any of the new lands that seem to be forming around Beqanna and this gives him hope. (Enough to warm his soul enough, anyway)
He had been a drifter, a nomad simply managing his existence on the edges of their established society. But then things had changed rather suddenly and his typical haunts were suddenly full to the brim of homeless horses. He wasn’t one for crowds, but he also thought this might be as good a time as any to try to do something with his life. He wasn’t what you would call ambitious, but he was getting to an age where a certain clock began to tick and the bachelor life was not quite as appealing as it once was. He knows he is not the most glamorous catch as far as males go, but he is willing to put himself out there at least. (Good on you, Moggett)
Where he lacks in height, he does make up for in strength and determination. He is a strong little man and he has heart, which is more than he can say of some of the males he has encountered in his years of wandering. His features are also gentle enough on the eyes, though not overly friendly (it gives him a sort of charm). So as he stands beneath his pine, frigid, he considers himself a decent enough recruit to any of the new lands that seem to be forming around Beqanna and this gives him hope. (Enough to warm his soul enough, anyway)
Moggett
