Since Hestia had left, his purpose shifted. His son had grown strong and tall like his father and Murc knew the boy would survive so he had taken his leave to blend within the dappled sunlight if the forest once again.
A heavy foot moves after the other, the dark man with grey-lavender eyes, grunts softly as the heat of summer gave away to the cool autumn air. Murc decides he can emerge from the comfort of the shade trees to the open meadow to forage for foods, tearing at the short grasses with stained teeth. The world had fallen into a lull with the assault of breeding season except for the occasional squeal of a young rage filled stallion attempting to claim a mare in efforts to spread his seed. The heavy male does not flinch and continued to graze greedily. Winter would soon happen and food would be scare. It felt strange to be alone today, despite his time away since the absence of Hestia, the angry but beautiful Nerine queen. But such as the way of life and so he must continue to push on with his own awareness and survival.
Once his hunger is sated, the thick head lifts upward to look across the meadow as a gathering of equines. A single ear twitches towards them, lilac eyes drifting over the forms and colors and oddness of the group. He does not envy them but instead feels a sense of (almost) longing as he can not remember the last time he had a conversation.
MURC
just as i can be so cruel
