Juice
08-23-2019, 09:08 PM
Juice could care less about politics. He could care less that Sinner took on Castile and lost. It all had little effect on him. He was born in the shadows of Sylva and, for that reason only, did he call the great forest his home. Sylva is merely the only home he has ever known. It was familiar and thus, Juice feels comfortable; he feels safe. He knows how to dance amongst the shadows and, stay out of sight. He knows his way through the maze of trees and, how to slip silently through the dead leaves and pine needles. And, if he really wants to become invisible, the bay splash stallion could simply melt into a puddle of water.
Today, the now mature stallion decides to take a walk. He heads southeast until the Sylvan trees become sparse and give way to the full intensity of the daystar. Simultaneously, Juice feels thoroughly warmed and, completely blinded, by the light. Instinctually, his eyelids blink several times before they remain open at a squint. I could never get used to this! Why is it so bright? He takes a moment to toss his head a few times until his forelock moves over his eyes. A frustrated snort releases from nasal caverns but, the brown and white male presses on. Juice accelerates into a hurried walk with his poll lowered as he hugs the uneven shore of Loess. He continues along the coastline until the array of evergreen trees from the Forest come into focus.
Clearly, a creature of habit, the bay splash overo prefers to be under a tree's canopy. As he steps into the shade of the woods, Juice sighs a breath of relief. His poll lifts and, although he physically appears more alert, he feels more relaxed. Nevertheless, he listens carefully to the whispers amongst the spruce and fir boughs. His hooves land quietly upon the bed of fallen foliage. His bright black eyes scan the shadows on either side of him, as well as the path before him. Before long, his sensitive olfactories pick up the fragrance of someone whom he had not seen, nor thought of, in quite some time. Mom? he thinks to himself. His curiosity drives him forward and he continues to get closer. And, there, tucked in a grove far off the well-traveled path, lies his mother.
At first, Juice is awe-struck. It never occurred to him that he might see her again. And, certainly not here. Not like this. He had come to a halt out of disbelief and shock. As he regains consciousness, Juice closes his mouth and wills himself to approach her. With an unsteady voice, he calls out to the dingy but, recognizable, dunskin splash. "Mom?" When his question does not illicit a response, Juice pipes up again, this time louder with confidence. "Mom! What are you doing here?"
@[Lavendel]
Today, the now mature stallion decides to take a walk. He heads southeast until the Sylvan trees become sparse and give way to the full intensity of the daystar. Simultaneously, Juice feels thoroughly warmed and, completely blinded, by the light. Instinctually, his eyelids blink several times before they remain open at a squint. I could never get used to this! Why is it so bright? He takes a moment to toss his head a few times until his forelock moves over his eyes. A frustrated snort releases from nasal caverns but, the brown and white male presses on. Juice accelerates into a hurried walk with his poll lowered as he hugs the uneven shore of Loess. He continues along the coastline until the array of evergreen trees from the Forest come into focus.
Clearly, a creature of habit, the bay splash overo prefers to be under a tree's canopy. As he steps into the shade of the woods, Juice sighs a breath of relief. His poll lifts and, although he physically appears more alert, he feels more relaxed. Nevertheless, he listens carefully to the whispers amongst the spruce and fir boughs. His hooves land quietly upon the bed of fallen foliage. His bright black eyes scan the shadows on either side of him, as well as the path before him. Before long, his sensitive olfactories pick up the fragrance of someone whom he had not seen, nor thought of, in quite some time. Mom? he thinks to himself. His curiosity drives him forward and he continues to get closer. And, there, tucked in a grove far off the well-traveled path, lies his mother.
At first, Juice is awe-struck. It never occurred to him that he might see her again. And, certainly not here. Not like this. He had come to a halt out of disbelief and shock. As he regains consciousness, Juice closes his mouth and wills himself to approach her. With an unsteady voice, he calls out to the dingy but, recognizable, dunskin splash. "Mom?" When his question does not illicit a response, Juice pipes up again, this time louder with confidence. "Mom! What are you doing here?"
@[Lavendel]