Despite the reformation of lands around Beqanna, some things have not changed, and this is one of those places. The bay roan stallion steps from the embrace of the forest into the sunlit meadow and lifts his head to the sky, letting the sunshine wash across and warm his dark hide, soaking in the first fingers of spring warmth. After a moment he lowers his eyes to the Meadow itself, and takes a quick survey of those available to be approached. Mentally he eliminates groups entirely, because he’s not sure he’s ready for that sort of concentrated social interaction.
(Maybe not ready for any interaction, but this is what father has requested of him. He will not fail again so soon.)
His eyes settle on a painted stallion standing alone not terribly far away, and he strikes out in that direction, keeping his dark brown eyes focused on his quarry though he takes a round-about path across the Meadow, steeling himself for the moment when they will intersect paths. Or, rather, when Cagney will get close enough to the stranger that he has to give up his pretense of wandering, since the other stallion isn’t moving.
That moment comes sooner than perhaps he’d hoped, time marching steadily on without his interference, and so the boy clears his throat as he walks up to the other, not making any attempt to hush his approach – it’s bad enough to actually approach a stranger by himself, he’s not going to deal with having surprised them as well. “Hello,” he offers, tentative, and attempts to stretch a smile across his lips to go with the words.
(He fails. He has nothing to smile about anyway.)
“I’m Cagney,” he adds after a moment. Could you be any more awkward? he wants to ask himself, trying to cover a wince.
@[Tenebris]/@[Elise]