10-02-2017, 07:57 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The moon is almost full; it paints the quiet field in stark relief. Everything is a shade of grey in the darkness, and the tobiano stallion is no exception. The matte black of his body blends easily with the shadowy copse he stands in, but the pearlescent glitter of his white mantle and handsome face are clear even in the darkness. Most everyone is asleep at this time of night, but sleep is far from Ivar’s mind. He does not sleep when it is this dark. Instead he watches, his brown eyes alert. There is very little to see on the quiet summer evening – the wind plays with the silver sea of grass, a few horses shuffle in their sleep. But there, a ways in the distance, is quick movement. Intrigued, the tall stallion’s ears prick forward, his scaled nostrils flaring to catch a scent. A dark stallion (he might be black, or bay, or even steely grey; it is impossible to tell) stands on the side of a nearby hill. There is so rarely someone else awake that Ivar cannot help but move closer, curious what might have this stranger up so late. “Can’t sleep?” He asks curiously, a friendly smile on his handsome face. |