09-20-2015, 09:54 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-20-2015, 10:10 AM by Anker.)
Yo,ho haul together, hoist the colours high
This place was..well, it was home, he supposed that much. That’s what his Mother called it and he didn’t know any different. He and his Dam had kept to themselves, all the more for her to dote on him of course. She was an incessant nurturer, always fawning over him. He was bigger now, he needed less attention and more..something. He needed something to do, something that didn’t involve his Mother for goodness sakes. He loved her of course, as many foals love their Dams, but he couldn’t take it. There was such thing as ‘too much of a good thing.’
Anker loved the sea, not much of a surprise considering his father. He was as much of a whale as his namesake, and Anker proudly called him father. The colt also loved to eat, especially here in the Gates. All the sweet clover he could ever want, and he wanted a lot. He was a rather porky child, but Mother would assure him he was not fat. Stout, solid, she would tell him, but never fat. Today he had chosen a new patch of clover to devour, before winter came and stole it all away of course. The little buckskin stood lazily looking out over the empty meadow, his eyes rather uninterested. There was nothing to see, nothing to be interested in. Is this how it had always been? Surely not, there had to be others somewhere around here. He rested a leg, tipping his hoof on its end, and he munched. He was good at munching, he was also good at grouching.
Yes, even he, son of Adorata, could manage an emotion other than pure joy.
Whale x Adorata
still trying to figure him out
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Kronk didn’t feel particularly useful. He did, however, feel rather fat. The white and chestnut stallion looked back at his belly with dismay. He didn’t just feel fat, he was fat. It was shameful. Never before had he allowed himself such indulgence.
Except, well, the Gates was so peaceful and the grass was so good. Just as Wichita had promised him, there was lots and lots of clover.
And now, all that clover had gone right to his midsection. He sighed, and Kronk resentfully swallowed his last mouthful of what could only be described as his third breakfast before lunch. He needed to do something, anything, before lethargy and apathy won their war against determination and fitness.
Kronk walked a little faster than his normal wander. He was so focused on finding useful employment that he almost didn’t notice the little buckskin boy. He would have walked right past, but his eye caught at the last minute. The large stallion smiled fondly. He remembered being that age. A little hesitantly, for Kronk didn’t have much experience with children, he approached.
“That clover is good, huh?” If Kronk had it in him to scowl, he may have been a little dismayed that he left eating only to discuss eating. It went a long way towards demonstrating how far he had fallen.
“I’m Kronk. I’m new, but I’ve already eaten my fair share of clover.” Now Kronk’s nose did wrinkle slightly. When had he developed a one track mind?
Delicious little devils, those clovers.
Photograph by Vivacqua
Yo,ho haul together, hoist the colours high
There he sat, or stood, whichever it was he did. They were all the same and required little to no effort-ah, the life. He had set out to do something, but he foudn he was enjoying not doing anything at all. Yes, it was nice to not have his Mother lurking over him, a constant shadow to everything he did. She meant well, he knew she did, but this was a nice break.
So he was there of course, swatting at flies and little buzzing insects. Most he didn't know the names of, nor had he bothered to learn them. They always seemed to be drawn to his hind end and he hated to think of why that was, nasty little creatures. To survive, to enjoy living off the feces of others..disgusting. They were especially relentless this year, they should have started dying off, but they seemed to be multiplying. He was sure of it. Had they had an especial amount of rain this year, or lack there of? There was sure to be a reason for the over abundance of the little buggers. Anker sighed, chewing his food, unsure of exactly which meal this was for the day. Usually they all ran together with no start or finish, just the way he liked it.
It was then, while he stood deep in thought about his eating habits, that another happened to walk right by. Yes, walked right by him he did, and it took him quite long enough to notice him. Hadn't it? Sure he was still a growing boy, but he wasn't exactly that small either. That wasn't the worst part of the whole ordeal, half being ignored, no there was worse. The splashed man had..had.."Oi, I say..lookit...there you go, gone and smashed it." He looked rather put out, his eyes frantically looking from the smashed thing to the man himself. This man had smashed the perfectly good dandelion that Anker was about to eat. Oh, and he was still so hungry too. He soon stopped his back and forth stares, finally settling again on the flower, or weed. His mouth hung agape, completely at loss of what to do or say now.
Whale x Adorata
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Kronk had always assumed he’d be good with children. He didn’t have much of a basis for this opinion, but he held it none the less. He liked them, he wasn’t dreadfully old, he had a childlike enthusiasm, what else did you really need?
A nurturing instinct?
Kronk shook his head, no that was dumb. He never said he’d make a good mother just that he would be good with kids. He wasn’t even claiming to be a good father, just that he could be around them without doing something dreadful.
Clearly, that was not the case.
Kronk’s mystified eyes went round with surprise and he took a step back, looking around for what he possibly could have crushed. Was it his foot? An animal? A younger sibling? All those possibilities left Kronk feeling a little ill.
“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t mean —“ He trailed off. All that he could see was a sad little flower. It was rather squashed, but that didn’t seem to be any cause for alarm. He looked at the little boy skeptically.
“Do you mean that? That little flower?” Now, Kronk wasn’t that old, but when he was a yearling the colts didn’t particularly care much about flowers. Was he that out of touch with today’s youth? Kronk had the horrible realization that he could be both fat and old. One or the other of those things was bad enough, the combination was particularly dreadful. He eyed the boy with something akin to skepticism.
“Would you like me to get you a new one? A better one maybe? I think there are some roses in the garden.” After this was over, Kronk would have to take a long hard look at his life and his choices thus far. He had hoped to be the greatest warrior who ever lived, or failing in that, at least a good solider. Now, instead, he was offering to pick a rather feisty little boy some roses.
Where had he gone wrong?
Photograph by Vivacqua
Yo,ho haul together, hoist the colours high
He manages to pull his eyes away, raising them to look at the man before him. He was saying something now, Anker almost hadn't heard. Another? Some roses? Usually his Mother was the one offering to get him things, to make sure he had plenty to eat. It took him by surprise and he found it a bit strange too, that the male was now offering his services.
"Roses? Sir,.." The little buckskin tilted his head forward, bringing one eye closer to the mans face. It was a secretive gesture, you know the one, except Anker didn't whisper when he leaned in. "Have you ever eaten roses? They taste dreadful, I should know, made that mistake once." He felt as if he were imparting some important information, if anyone knew about food, it was him.
The boys features turn sullen once more, reminiscing on the smashed delicacy. "It was going to taste so delicious." Sighing, he prodded the weed with his hoof. Lucky for him, he spotted another not far, perhaps it was a good day after all. "Oh, here lookit.." He was sure to announce before he trotted away a bit, " Here's another, even better than the one before." Anker was sure to snatch it up quickly this time, couln't be too careful, no time to dilly-dally. With a mouthful, he calls to the other, sprays of grass and weeds spewing from his lips. "Hey, what did ya say your name was again? Mom calls me Anker, so i guess that's mine."
Whale x Adorata
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