The bright-eyed mare picks her way through the golden grass with no real distination in mind. If she were to continue heading south like she is, the tall blades will become less dense, thinning until the sea begins to wink through the space between them. Pteron wants to go to the beach (she can hear him chattering to himself about it from where he crashes along the trail through the thickest grass.
The colt insists that his father had told him this would make him stronger, but Lepis hasn't the heart to tell him that crashing into thick bunches of grass was nothing like crashing into another body. He's just a colt, she thinks to herself, there is still time for him to learn.
A gust of wind catches the pair of tobiano horses, gusting the navy and white mane of the winged mare. There is the scent of horse in it, but it is gone before the blue-eyed queen can identify who it might be. Not Wolfbane, she thinks, and not Noah.
Who else is here?
His mother's body language alerts Pteron to the danger, and the colt instantly becomes invisible. It wasn't a conscious choice, but the six-month-old colt is grateful for the instinct that spurred it. He tucks his winged body beneath the span of his mother's wing, and she drops the opposite as though it is totally natural for her to hold her feathered appendages at such an angle.
"Hello?" She calls out into the late-autumn sunlight. "Is someone out there?" a raised voice is not so uncommon here in this land of tall grass, and it is not Lepis' intent to startle whomever she might have come across. A horse can all but disappear from sight within a few yards in this golden prairie, and Lepis would rather not bump into someone - literally.
The colt insists that his father had told him this would make him stronger, but Lepis hasn't the heart to tell him that crashing into thick bunches of grass was nothing like crashing into another body. He's just a colt, she thinks to herself, there is still time for him to learn.
A gust of wind catches the pair of tobiano horses, gusting the navy and white mane of the winged mare. There is the scent of horse in it, but it is gone before the blue-eyed queen can identify who it might be. Not Wolfbane, she thinks, and not Noah.
Who else is here?
His mother's body language alerts Pteron to the danger, and the colt instantly becomes invisible. It wasn't a conscious choice, but the six-month-old colt is grateful for the instinct that spurred it. He tucks his winged body beneath the span of his mother's wing, and she drops the opposite as though it is totally natural for her to hold her feathered appendages at such an angle.
"Hello?" She calls out into the late-autumn sunlight. "Is someone out there?" a raised voice is not so uncommon here in this land of tall grass, and it is not Lepis' intent to startle whomever she might have come across. A horse can all but disappear from sight within a few yards in this golden prairie, and Lepis would rather not bump into someone - literally.
