The smokey mare walked silently through the fields, seemingly lost in a words all of her own. She was new to this place, coming from somewhere far, far away. She was already beginning to grow fond of Beqanna, though, or at the very least fond of the field. It reminded her somewhat of her old home, lush and green with the sound of rushing water nearby. All it was missing, she thought, were the mountains reaching into the heavens.
The other missing link she realised in her wanders was, where were those like her? Of the few horses she thought to look at she noticed something - Many were taller, or thinner, less compact than she was. Anette was, of course, fairly average for her breed. She was compact and made of muscle, far stronger than she looked. Her markings could also be convieced as being odd - Her coat a dark, slate gray, with even darker black striped markings on her forearms, and a dark stripe straight from her mane, down her back and to her tail.
No matter, she thought, and continued on her wander, in the vain hope to find one like her. Or atleast, one to accept her. She wanted a home, although where she didnt know, and currently the field seemed like a perfectly viable option.
anette
Aldri så god hest at han ikkje kan snuble