Winter is arguably his favorite season— bright crisp days where the sun shines, dry cool air. Yiska walked slowly through the fields, his ambling gait occasionally interrupted when he trips over well, nearly anything. Stones, mounds of dirt; even his own four feet. Somehow he's managing, ears swiveling about and nose skimming lightly over the blades of grass until it bumps into something, a log.
A normal horse may step over it, or simply go around. However Yiska isn't gifted with good vision, and instead opens his maw slightly, a steady clicking sound falling from his tongue. It's strange, he doesn't see more than just light and dark shapes, but by doing this he can hear volume. Finally, the stallion appears satisfied, lifting a foreleg and taking a step plenty high to step over the fallen obstacle. Another, another, another, and he's over, appearing plenty satisfied with himself as he raised his head once more, tail swishing away the flies landing on his coat. They are especially bothersome to this stud- sensitive as a way to adapt to being almost completely blind. Around him, Yiska can smell the scents of many others; some old and many new, however it's only when the sound of a rustling through the grass that isn't his own interrupts his slow and winding path through the occasional trees and bushes. Head high, ears pricked and alert, nostril's flaring as he worked in his head to figure it out.
"Is someone there?"
Yiska
"And in the darkness you will see the sun."