The tobiano stallion had been standing alone beneath a tall oak, leisurely basking in the warmth of the summer sun that rained through the foliage above, when his thoughts were disrupted by booming footsteps. Lazily he opened his eyes, squinting in the bright morning light, as he tried to discern the source of the sounds. He was unaccustomed to hearing such loud steps, as the majority of horses here tended to be smaller – or, as he had learned, prone to arrive in strange aerial or magical methods. Thus, his interest was certainly sparked, and he slowly but inquisitively glanced about him.
Before long, his gaze settled on the large shape of a black mare grazing not far from him. She was gorgeous, he noted to himself, silently admiring her white feathers. Yet, as he continued to study her, his eyes found the collections of scars littered about her body. Huh, he thought, furrowing his brows. She must have lived much more experienced of a life than him, he quickly deduced. Although, to be honest, that certainly wasn’t saying much. For all his years of life, Clark couldn’t put many accomplishments to his name.
Yet the scars had captured his curiosity, and for better or worse, the tobiano found himself leaving his warm, sunlit spot to wander towards her. Gingerly, he picked his path through the scattered bushes and low-hanging branches, occasionally stepping on a twig with a small crack. As he neared, he let out a small nicker, thinking it unwise to sneak up on such a battle-hardened mare.
“Hey there…”
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whether there will be another card