10-17-2022, 06:36 AM
The warm light of the mid-morning sun gives no hint of the change in seasons, and the soft breeze is thick with the scent of the summer warmed sea. Malik opens his eyes, and looks out at the Brilliant Pampas from the copse in which he has been sleeping. The trees overhead have hardly begun to change, still thick and full and barely yellowing, but there are other signs of the changing seasons; the chatter of squirrels as they fill their winter caches, and the nightly frost that has already melted away by the time the young stallion awakes.
Stepping out onto the still-wet grass and away from the shade, Malik makes his way down toward the nearby stream. He yawns and shakes his horned head in an effort to more fully wake up, but it’s not until he has plunged belly deep into the slow flowing water that he’s entirely alert.
He has been making rounds of the Pampas by night, a task that is familiar from his time spent patrolling in Hyaline. He’s not looking for anything, and the rare times he’s seen someone coming or going he’s only ever watched them from a distance. The practice has made him familiar - at least by sight - with most of the residents of the Pampas, or at least those who haven’t made an effort to not be seen.
The water has done its job, and the black stallion climbs back up the bank to shake himself partially dry. The feathers of his neck and sides point at odd angles because of the branches he’d scraped against on the climb, and the shake he gives to settle them does only half the task. He usually sleeps until well into the afternoon, but something had woken him this morning. He’d known he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, and as he dries in the warm sun, he ponders what to do with the day ahead of him.
Open to anyone :)
Stepping out onto the still-wet grass and away from the shade, Malik makes his way down toward the nearby stream. He yawns and shakes his horned head in an effort to more fully wake up, but it’s not until he has plunged belly deep into the slow flowing water that he’s entirely alert.
He has been making rounds of the Pampas by night, a task that is familiar from his time spent patrolling in Hyaline. He’s not looking for anything, and the rare times he’s seen someone coming or going he’s only ever watched them from a distance. The practice has made him familiar - at least by sight - with most of the residents of the Pampas, or at least those who haven’t made an effort to not be seen.
The water has done its job, and the black stallion climbs back up the bank to shake himself partially dry. The feathers of his neck and sides point at odd angles because of the branches he’d scraped against on the climb, and the shake he gives to settle them does only half the task. He usually sleeps until well into the afternoon, but something had woken him this morning. He’d known he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, and as he dries in the warm sun, he ponders what to do with the day ahead of him.
Open to anyone :)