risk
He’s nervous, with all the chaos forming like turbulent waves across Beqanna. He places a gentle kiss to Spirit’s brow and then the boy takes off to meet his friends in the forests south of here. Of course, there is still that knot of worry tied up in his heartstrings, but he knows he cannot smother his children and expect them to be independent. A nice walk may be just what he needs to clear his mind and ease the stress from his shoulders. With that thought in mind, he slips through the trees and heads north.
The quiet of the snow and the Taigan forests always appealed to him, but he normally preferred to stay close to Sochi when she was with child. She prefers the opposite when she grows this close to giving birth. His laugh at the thought is so quiet it almost goes unheard over the sound of his hooves crunching in the snow. Risk’s breath comes in little white puffs of air that distract his eyes for a while. This is how he stumbles upon the pair speaking.
He lifts his chin, his different colored eyes examining them briefly in surprise. One is a plain black mare, seemingly unremarkable but her voice is stern and quick to command the other. The other is a dog that offers its belly in submission to the woman. Risk tilts his head, curious about the display. He often mimics prey animals and so the behaviors of wolves and other predators are a mystery to him.
“Oh. I suppose I’m double intruding, then,” he thinks aloud. His voice is warm and quiet, not really intended to be heard but not muted either. “My name is Risk. I was just.. walking to clear my head.”
And then he offers a sheepish smile. As he shifts his weight, the copper marbling across his sides catches the sunlight bleeding through the pines and shimmers brightly. Perhaps he should leave before he overstays his welcome, he thinks. He even takes a step back as he considers where to head to next.
The quiet of the snow and the Taigan forests always appealed to him, but he normally preferred to stay close to Sochi when she was with child. She prefers the opposite when she grows this close to giving birth. His laugh at the thought is so quiet it almost goes unheard over the sound of his hooves crunching in the snow. Risk’s breath comes in little white puffs of air that distract his eyes for a while. This is how he stumbles upon the pair speaking.
He lifts his chin, his different colored eyes examining them briefly in surprise. One is a plain black mare, seemingly unremarkable but her voice is stern and quick to command the other. The other is a dog that offers its belly in submission to the woman. Risk tilts his head, curious about the display. He often mimics prey animals and so the behaviors of wolves and other predators are a mystery to him.
“Oh. I suppose I’m double intruding, then,” he thinks aloud. His voice is warm and quiet, not really intended to be heard but not muted either. “My name is Risk. I was just.. walking to clear my head.”
And then he offers a sheepish smile. As he shifts his weight, the copper marbling across his sides catches the sunlight bleeding through the pines and shimmers brightly. Perhaps he should leave before he overstays his welcome, he thinks. He even takes a step back as he considers where to head to next.