As he follows the stream and sniffs the air, suddenly he sees. He's back. He hasn't been in Beqanna for a good five years, that is; maybe all of his life. He's born here, or, that is, not exactly in the Meadow of course. Still, he remembers the field with it's sparse trees, and he remembers the smell of autumn from just before leaving. He's been wandering, you see. And gotten lost. Elsewhere, he found a second home. It would never be as good as the first, but he made friends to play with, other colts his age to roam the lands with, to compete for girls' attentions, all in all: Leilan-heaven. Now, he finds himself back again, wholes in his memories clotting though - he's not quite sure how this travelling worked. He does know something else: thirst. And so, his nose finds him a stream rather quickly, and pushing forward, he leaps up a lot of the fresh water without pausing. He's a strong young stallion, who'd hurt him anyway? |
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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