ruby red glow ; any

[farren]

He is still unused to the stirring he feels upon passing a mare covered in a sweet scent; he is young enough to not know what it means, but old enough to feel the effects of a mare's heat, even if he does not know it by that name. He can smell it all around him, nostrils flaring as he grazes, ears twitching briefly as he listens to the little bits of conversation that float his way. He quite enjoys his little corner of the field, apart from the politics and song-and-dance he knows nothing of, that the older equines so easily partake in. He cares nothing of their politics, for he doesn't understand them. He is still too ignorant in his age to understand much of the "adult" world he has so surprisingly entered.
He hears them and raises his chiseled head to face them, ears perked as he slowly takes in the delicate form before him. she was stunning and salmon, an unusual color, but considering he had garland for a mane and tail, he chose to instead embrace it. It was a beautiful compliment to her bay color, after all. So he offers a smile and dips his refined head towards her, nostrils flaring briefly as he caught her scent in the cool autumn air; she smells of  daisies and crisp nightime air, where stars can be seen for miles. It stirs and nudges at something he doesn't quite  understand, so he chooses to ignore it in favor of conversation.
"Hello." He greets her in warm tones, a smile tugging at his lips as he catches her eyes, seeing her interest in his oddity of a mane. He would stare, too, if he was her, so he doesn't mind. Her question is the one he's heard from the snippets of other groups, and he is about to answer when she exclaims, introducing herself before he answers. Her laugh is musical, like birdsong or bells, and he is entranced, watching as she shakes her head. He meets her eyes and lets out a soft, deep laugh in return, finding himself warmed by the coyness of her salmon smile. "I am Farren, and I'm here to make friends." He chuckles, shaking his head slightly to get the forelock from his eyes. His voice has not yet gained the perfect maturity of a time-tested stallion, instead full of the confidence and curiosity of a boy, not yet grown, but in a grown body.  "But I wouldn't mind finding a kingdom to adventure through." He would love to have an actual home, instead of wandering about, and he certainly wouldn't mind going home with such a mare. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ygritte." 

F A R R E N

i'll taste the sky and feel alive again