Nothing's right, I'm torn [Any]

[Texas]

Though he’s been progressively at ticking off all the boxes required of a kingdom horse, Texas has begun to grow bored. He had known that the Falls was a quiet kingdom, but he had not expected all of Beqanna to be quiet as well. It grates beneath his skin, a constant reminder that he has no ultimate plan, that he is simply surviving and making no attempt at living.

He’s brought a new member to the kingdom, tried a steal, done a challenge. Check, check, check.

Today would be a good day to laze about in the kingdom. The summer sun is bright overhead and the breeze keeps the air from being too still. It also blows the tangled strands of his grey streak mane into face, and Texas snorts irritably as he pauses to shake it away. He is in the Field instead of napping, and while there are several potential prospects, the weight of his productivity has already begun to chafe.

He decides to stand very still, and see if anything changes.

Hours pass, and he falls asleep instead of observes, and when he wakes the majority of those around him have been captured or convinced to leave the Field. There are a handful of mares and stallions, and then there is a bright green figure a little off in the distance.

Texas has never seen a green horse, despite his years, and he immediately forgets his irritation. He approaches her, and while his brown eyes cover every inch of her figure as he draws closer, his gaze is not at all lascivious. The bay stallion is intrigued and appreciative of this novelty, and when he settles a comfortable distance from the young mare his smile is warm and charming.

“You’re quite the looker,” he tells her, the drawl in his tenor voice stretching out the words. He says it as though it is a fact to be acknowledged, neither teasingly or flirtatiously. Texas is quite clearly just a bay stallion with friendly eyes. “I’m Texas, from the Falls. What’s your name?”