The sun arcs across the sky, and still he stands.
Just as he’s about to head begrudgingly back to his mother’s side, a blur of red and white catches his attention downstream. He startles, slightly, and is immediately ashamed. For it is not the rabid fox he thought it might be – not a terrifying creature from the forest, intent for his throat – but Joscelin, the other half of the crop of this year’s foals. Ramiel eyes her warily at first, wondering if she’s seen his moment of weakness. She is too busy splashing around though, he thinks, and having escaped her notice, a small smile quirks his lips.
He watches the girl for a moment, some part of him wishing to join in the joy of her play, but the other parts (the overwhelming majority) are too stubborn and serious to understand the point of it. He does want to get to know her, however. And when she finally sees him, it seems like she wants to know him just as much.
Joscelin shoots into the sky, droplets of water falling from her and back into the river she briefly hovers over. It’s a marvelous display made even more so as the sun catches in the drops and makes tiny rainbows. He’s still gaping by the time the bay and white stops in front of him, registering that she has splashed him only at the last moment. “Hey.” He protests lightly with no registerable heat in his voice. The colt is too happy at the prospect of some excitement; he welcomes each and every interaction and soaks it up like water to a sprout.
His golden eyes turn thoughtful as he considers her first question, because he doesn’t know what he had almost done. Was he going to disobey? Or was he being a good boy, standing down from his desire to explore the forbidden beyond? Luckily, the filly doesn’t press for an answer, and she’s moved on with another question by the time he’s about to speak. At this one, he grins slyly back. “I do.” Ramiel shifts his gaze across the river and up into the hills. He wonders if she has restrictions. He wonders if she will push the limits. “Race me to the tallest fir tree over there?”
And with only his black skin tensing as a warning, he takes off. Pebbles and rocks slow and stumble his progress across the river. He reaches the far banks drenched and already a little tired, but he peers back to see if Joscelin is playing along. He hopes so. This slight rebellion is already the most fun he’s ever had.
r a m i e l
what a day to begin again
ooc: feel free to power play him if needed! =]