rivers or veins; any

[brave]

can't tell if i've got rivers or veins
running under my skin

Brave was immortal.
Her little heart burst with the implication of this and it made her, well, all the more brave. She feared nothing that lurked in the shadows (nothing lurked near her since her mother was not all that far and a mother-mare was more than wolf or bear were willing to trifle with at the moment) and did battle with the monsters of her imagination that were little more than sticks and pine needles kicked up, tossed about, that she threw tooth and hoof at to make them think twice about contending with her. Her bravado met no match in rock or redwood as she wove amongst them on light innocent feet.

In the midst of her play, Brave picked up on a strange crunching that made her peer down at her own hooves. No, that sound was not made by her feet but something else or someone else’s. She guessed at this, but the interruption was enough to make her abandon her games to sniff out the source of the crunching in her neck of the redwoods. Lowering her muzzle to the needled dirt, she began to sniff at it as she tried to pick up other threads of scent besides that of earth and tree but her nose is not as keen as a wolf’s.

Brave, not the type to quit, realized that this tactic just would not work for her. Sniffing the air might be a tad bit better but all she caught was the smell of her mother, herself, and the forest that breathed and grew around her. Everything smelled green and growing, and she lost herself in the smell of it as her eyes closed and she savored each breath she drew deep into her lungs, exhaling rather loudly because what did Brave have to fear here? Nothing, she told herself. Nothing. Not even the dimness of the forest is a threat to her; she had been born into it after all.

(Wolves have superior night vision, to be sure but horses are designed to detect these types of predators in dim conditions. The darker the night, the harder it would be for her to see him. Horses though, do see better in dim conditions versus bright sunnier conditions as evolution has given them some aid here so he is negligent in his assumption that Brave would never see a wolf pup leaping about. Other senses would clue her into him but alas, she is forever inside the world her own brain has crafted - imagination winning over instinct.)

She flicks a single ear; the crunching had stopped some time ago and the redwoods fell back into their familiar mystical hush. Brave angled close to some rocks, curious as to their placement there amidst the towering trees when all of a sudden there came a loud greeting and a scrabble of paws (so different from hooves!) on the needled earth. She jerks her head up and half-rears as the thing gains shape and recognition in her eyes - a wolf, but a mere pup, and she felt no threat from him as he rolled around, whimpering in pain.

Brave did not shy away but grew suspicious at how a wolf could talk to her, a horse. That, and she was a little bit concerned when their eyes met and she could see the tears brimming in the corner of his purple gaze. “How come I can understand you?” she hissed, a little breathless as her blue gaze tracked his rolling trajectory across the forest floor. “Stop rolling around and let me look!” she blurted out, not sure if he had a needle in his paw or sprained it somehow on his rather awkward landing.

She huffed in irritation and tried to near him despite instinct telling her to get the hell away from him, screaming from every quivering muscle and rebelling vein. “Lay still!” Brave said rather bossily as she tried to snatch at his tail with her teeth to stop his rolling.

brave

@[Cyrus] it was perfect, he's so cute! Brave's not trying to be mean, just bossy haha <3