07-04-2016, 10:32 AM
Sorry about disappearing for a couple days - yesterday was birthday and day before was doing yard work. Posting now!
I took in both stallion's words, but did not reply immediately. I pondered over their words, and decided I would explore but not resettle. I did, indeed, require knowledge, experience, and the skills I would learn throughout travels - and was then trapped.
Do I stay through this encounter, or leave now and hope to find him in the Tundra? It is difficult, much more so than I had convinced myself it would be, to decide about this matter. I edged more towards leaving now - it was likely that he would join his new friend - Offspring - in the Tundra.
"I bid you both well. I am heading off soon, before nightfall. I hope you both do well." I say, rather solemnly, eyeing each stallion's eyes first. If there was anything to remember aside from names, it was faces and eyes. If you could remember who has a specific eye color matched with a deformed nostril and crooked ear, then you could find that single horse again.
Names didn't mean much to me, nor titles. But I respect leadership, elders, and those younger than myself. Only if desperately needed shall I trust those equal to myself. I slowly turned away from the two, and headed off at a determined walk - but with a slight limp on my left hind leg. There was no known injury and no defect, but I carried a limp in that leg at the walk. Once I moved past the walk into faster gates, it was fine.
But about four horse-lengths away, I stopped, head down. I never realized how sharp the pain of separation, being alone, and leaving home the first time would be. But this is what would mold me into my adult self - into a respectable mare instead of a young filly. I started forward, this time at a slow trot. I didn't stop until just short of the edge of the forest, and only just in sight of the stallions. I turned to face them before giving a final goodbye - a sad sounding whicker just loud enough to reach their ears before trotting off.
My feet dragged, and I often found myself simply traveling along the edge of the forest - and just off the nearby Kingdom's borders. I realized, as I saw my small, circular hoofprints in the soft ground, that I was heading the way I came again. I couldn't stay but I couldn't leave. Heck, I should've just chose a border and followed it until it ended! But, maybe I wasn't meant to leave yet. Night was darkening, now, and I meandered slightly into the forest - and towards the two stallions - before settling beside a large birch tree for the night.
I took in both stallion's words, but did not reply immediately. I pondered over their words, and decided I would explore but not resettle. I did, indeed, require knowledge, experience, and the skills I would learn throughout travels - and was then trapped.
Do I stay through this encounter, or leave now and hope to find him in the Tundra? It is difficult, much more so than I had convinced myself it would be, to decide about this matter. I edged more towards leaving now - it was likely that he would join his new friend - Offspring - in the Tundra.
"I bid you both well. I am heading off soon, before nightfall. I hope you both do well." I say, rather solemnly, eyeing each stallion's eyes first. If there was anything to remember aside from names, it was faces and eyes. If you could remember who has a specific eye color matched with a deformed nostril and crooked ear, then you could find that single horse again.
Names didn't mean much to me, nor titles. But I respect leadership, elders, and those younger than myself. Only if desperately needed shall I trust those equal to myself. I slowly turned away from the two, and headed off at a determined walk - but with a slight limp on my left hind leg. There was no known injury and no defect, but I carried a limp in that leg at the walk. Once I moved past the walk into faster gates, it was fine.
But about four horse-lengths away, I stopped, head down. I never realized how sharp the pain of separation, being alone, and leaving home the first time would be. But this is what would mold me into my adult self - into a respectable mare instead of a young filly. I started forward, this time at a slow trot. I didn't stop until just short of the edge of the forest, and only just in sight of the stallions. I turned to face them before giving a final goodbye - a sad sounding whicker just loud enough to reach their ears before trotting off.
My feet dragged, and I often found myself simply traveling along the edge of the forest - and just off the nearby Kingdom's borders. I realized, as I saw my small, circular hoofprints in the soft ground, that I was heading the way I came again. I couldn't stay but I couldn't leave. Heck, I should've just chose a border and followed it until it ended! But, maybe I wasn't meant to leave yet. Night was darkening, now, and I meandered slightly into the forest - and towards the two stallions - before settling beside a large birch tree for the night.