The young stallion is a pathetic sight; he could be mistaken for dead. Or the crows thought so at least, as the cautiously observe him from the bare trees. It wouldn't be long before they dared to investigate, hopping closer to taste him, but there is still a tread of life in his young body. It is a thread stretched thin, and it quivers dangerously close to snapping.
But it is enough to keep his lungs filling weakly, and it is enough to wake him at the sound of a stranger approaching.
He lifts his dark head, every inch a battle, before shifting his weight to take a semi-upright laying position. Crusted with blood and shivering slightly, his forelegs splay in front of his open chest.
"Who's there?" he asks, with a voice as ragged as he feels, not knowing his words are hardly words at all.
Blinking, he shifts his dark head in the direction of the noise, and every muscle in his body contracts. The sharp movement makes it feel as if he is falling and the injured stallion gasps as his head jerks backward. Equilibrium regained, he has time to think of the stranger again, and Firen reaches cautiously with his mind for whoever, or whatever, may be there.
@[Leilan]
But it is enough to keep his lungs filling weakly, and it is enough to wake him at the sound of a stranger approaching.
He lifts his dark head, every inch a battle, before shifting his weight to take a semi-upright laying position. Crusted with blood and shivering slightly, his forelegs splay in front of his open chest.
"Who's there?" he asks, with a voice as ragged as he feels, not knowing his words are hardly words at all.
Blinking, he shifts his dark head in the direction of the noise, and every muscle in his body contracts. The sharp movement makes it feel as if he is falling and the injured stallion gasps as his head jerks backward. Equilibrium regained, he has time to think of the stranger again, and Firen reaches cautiously with his mind for whoever, or whatever, may be there.
@[Leilan]