CANYS
Canys awoke disturbed by haunting dreams of battles past. His scars gleamed in the early morning light as the sun rose above the horizon. An ominous wind rustled the grass beneath his stomach, and he felt something traveling on this breeze. He did not believe much in prophecy or fate, but was wary of both as they had caused him issue before.
As Canys looked towards the rising sun, he hoped that he would encounter someone new. “Silence is the sound of the dead” he muttered beneath his breath. In truth Canys longed for any semblance of family or brotherhood within this world. He had now ventured for too long as a lone stallion wandering upon the tall grass. He knew that he had nothing, and he knew that to the the other horses he was nothing. Yet, more than anything Canys wished to prove himself to the rest of the horses. He would not be seen as any mere stallion, but would work tirelessly to make a name for himself in this new and exciting land.
Canys then began to run towards the sunrise, in an attempt to dry the dew from his tattered hide in the warmth of the summer rays. His stride was long, and his breath deep as he trampled the vibrant grass ahead of him. Canys felt the air fill his lungs and knew that he was alive, even if his monstrous body suggested otherwise. After the final drops of dew had fallen from his teal mane, he stopped to rest in a small clearing waiting to see if anyone would wander by.
With pain comes Strength