[private] Deep roots are not reached by the frost; Mataeris

[Aodhan]

Aodhán

little fire

All that is gold does not glitter; not all who wander are lost

Days come and go, and the nights are often enough lonely. And it’s not like he needs a mare to warm him, that’s not the point (though, it is of course big bonus). But the spotted hybrid thinks the Pampas needs more life - even if he will never get officially granted permission to live there, he can ask around if someone wants to join him. If he cannot get the official leader title, he can at least act as one - for those who want and need some guidance, at least. After all, there will always be some who don’t want to talk to him.

But he can try to bring those who do.

Thus decided, the white baroque male is on his way to the meadow, and the field. Not shifted, but purposefully as a stallion in his prime, and purposefully walking all the way. Because, if he meets someone half-way, who doesn’t want to put themselves out there in the Field and portray to all that they need a (new) home, then he wouldn’t want to miss out on talking to them.

Coming to the riverbend, his exhaustion reminds him that he should do this more often if he wants to get back in shape. But even more of a wake-up call of a blue mare in the distance; carrying himself as if he’s fresh as this morning, he nickers a greeting.

He remembers when blue was his favourite colour.

@[Mataeris] as requested, a starter!