08-25-2020, 10:08 PM
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The river is quite marvelous indeed.
It winds merrily through the trees, bubbling and splashing itself against every rock it meets along the way. Barrow follows it at an eager pace. His ears tip forward in anticipation of every bend and curve that will mean an adjustment in his frenetic motion. Even the cooler, autumnal air wouldn’t slow him down even if it could. The chase to the end is all that matters!
Some older girl he’d met in the meadow (one he’d thought was rather pretty, all things considered) had told him how dreadfully wonderful the river was and how he should probably hurry along and go see it for himself. And then after that, maybe go check out one of the islands real far out to sea. Always eager to please, Barrow had obliged post haste. Only later, as his feet churned up the lush grasses along the banks, did he realize she had probably been sending him away on purpose. Joke’s on her, he muses now, this is far more interesting than she was. And it only hurts a little when he thinks about it.
As a young colt, his mother told him that he would make friends quickly. But she had grown up in a Beqanna that was far different than the here and now. As talk of monsters and magicians and shifters grew, so too did Radiant’s concern for her son’s safety. This concern shrank the circle of freedom Barrow was allowed to explore. He loved his mother, dearly, but she was wrong. He knew a shifter, a filly that could turn into a hawk by only her mind, and she had been fun and kind. She had been his only friend, even. But his dam had not relented her tight reins. Now, the red boy is almost a man. He had been sheltered in Tephra, but it hadn’t dampened his exuberance for life. It hadn’t snuffed out the spark in his chest put there by his grandfather’s own zest and zaniness. Today, he does what he wants and goes where his feet take him.
His blue eyes widen when he comes to a sudden stop. What he had been following isn’t the river at all, it turns out - merely a tributary to the actual River itself! That body of water swallows up the stream’s water in a roar as it feeds off of the other adjoining creeks in its path to the ocean. He pauses to marvel at the sheer power of it. Maybe that filly hadn’t been yanking his hock after all. There’s another figure just ahead, a pale horse – young, by the slightness of the figure – and he steps forward. “Why…hello,” he starts haltingly. The girl in the meadow’s brush-off is at the forefront of his mind. This time he will proceed with caution.
It winds merrily through the trees, bubbling and splashing itself against every rock it meets along the way. Barrow follows it at an eager pace. His ears tip forward in anticipation of every bend and curve that will mean an adjustment in his frenetic motion. Even the cooler, autumnal air wouldn’t slow him down even if it could. The chase to the end is all that matters!
Some older girl he’d met in the meadow (one he’d thought was rather pretty, all things considered) had told him how dreadfully wonderful the river was and how he should probably hurry along and go see it for himself. And then after that, maybe go check out one of the islands real far out to sea. Always eager to please, Barrow had obliged post haste. Only later, as his feet churned up the lush grasses along the banks, did he realize she had probably been sending him away on purpose. Joke’s on her, he muses now, this is far more interesting than she was. And it only hurts a little when he thinks about it.
As a young colt, his mother told him that he would make friends quickly. But she had grown up in a Beqanna that was far different than the here and now. As talk of monsters and magicians and shifters grew, so too did Radiant’s concern for her son’s safety. This concern shrank the circle of freedom Barrow was allowed to explore. He loved his mother, dearly, but she was wrong. He knew a shifter, a filly that could turn into a hawk by only her mind, and she had been fun and kind. She had been his only friend, even. But his dam had not relented her tight reins. Now, the red boy is almost a man. He had been sheltered in Tephra, but it hadn’t dampened his exuberance for life. It hadn’t snuffed out the spark in his chest put there by his grandfather’s own zest and zaniness. Today, he does what he wants and goes where his feet take him.
His blue eyes widen when he comes to a sudden stop. What he had been following isn’t the river at all, it turns out - merely a tributary to the actual River itself! That body of water swallows up the stream’s water in a roar as it feeds off of the other adjoining creeks in its path to the ocean. He pauses to marvel at the sheer power of it. Maybe that filly hadn’t been yanking his hock after all. There’s another figure just ahead, a pale horse – young, by the slightness of the figure – and he steps forward. “Why…hello,” he starts haltingly. The girl in the meadow’s brush-off is at the forefront of his mind. This time he will proceed with caution.
barrow
@[Mazikeen] So this is only a million years late...and it's terrible, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things! <3