Trees. Nothing but damned trees. Ever since leaving Taiga he’d strayed slightly from the path and had found himself drifting south until he’d entered the border of Sylva. Since then, he’d happily gotten himself lost in the myriad of trees. His solitude had been therapeutic to him in a way. There were no meddlesome mares who felt that it was their job to change him. He wasn’t interested in changing.
Winter and travel clung to him. His fur had grown longer, making him look scruffier than he usually preferred. His grey coat was thick and the scruff on his face had grown long giving him a more matured look. Though, he hardly recognized his reflection anymore.
The smell of other horses had grown stronger the farther into Sylva he’d wandered. Normally he would have avoided the main hub, but for some reason he found himself wanting to investigate.
He’d never belonged to a kingdom before. The whole idea felt restraining and uncomfortable to him. Diplomatic missions and grand defensive battles held no appeal to him. More than likely he’d burn a kingdom to the ground before he’d find himself useful to it.
No, he preferred his life as a nomad. It was comfortable and familiar. He could never imagine himself answerable to anyone and he would make a poor excuse for a leader. Monotony had never been a strong suit of his. From a very young age he’d discovered that it was easier to be alone. Relationships were messy and unpredictable. Even a mother could grow bored enough to abandon her own child – a lesson he’d learned himself. Looking back at those years of struggle, he could thank the woman who held the majority of his contempt. She’d taught him early on how to rely upon himself – not the fickle interests of women.
Relationships were as changing as the seasons.
He took what he needed when it was required and was free to leave just as quickly as he had come.
Rounding a bend, he watched his footing as he came upon a suddenly rocky alcove. Boulders towered over him, casting their shade upon the already cold forest floor. Autumn colored leaves hung overhead, a phenomenon that had always fascinated him. Even in the depths of winter this part of the forest never lost it’s leaves. Vibrant and unburdened by snow, he enjoyed Sylva in the winter. It was far more bearable that any other kingdom surrounding them.
Halting at the peak of the bolder he gazed downward at the forest floor below.
@[Sabra] I told you this was going to happen.
