Scintilla || Any

[Tenebris]

His arrival in the field is not totally un meditated. The stallion has sat upon the thought of this coming like a stool. He twists his way through gnarled roots, and the low hanging branches of his forested home, his mind is empty of thiught as he makes his way towards his destination. The stars above his ebony head prove a wonderful guide for the painted stag who has neber been to this location before. Tenebris relies soley on what his gut tells him, and when he arrives in the sleepy field he is thankful for such a good sense of direction. 

He watches those sleeping peacefully in the field for a moment before making his way to the bubling creek that split the land. While he does not move to drink from it, the stallion finds comfort in the noise it provides. The field was so deathly silent at this time of night. It seemed as if even the crickets held theor breath in quiet anticipation of the sunrise. 

He waits here at the creek for quite some tome before moving to settle himself beneath a copse of trees, azure eyes watchful for anyone approaching. He waits now, boredom evedent on his features

((Tis short and written on my phone, sorry for any spelling mistakes!))