talk talk talk
Winter greets with a raw fierceness. I trod idly through the frozen fields, the green of the Gates no longer present. The clovers my Mother and I enjoy so much, now an unfulfilled desire. Jack Frost had taken to the home décor and he had left it stark, white, and dull. Which meant digging through the ice to find sustenance, not my favorite. This is what I am currently doing, a black whisp against the pale backdrop. My daggers rake at the ground over and over until it finally gives way, exposing the yellowed blades I am to eat. Well, it isn’t much I think to myself as I tilt my dial to look unappetizingly at my breakfast.
It is then that I take note of two horses, I don’t miss much with my eyes it seems. Their view is ever increasing, sharpening, while my ears are not of the same governance. Today is a good day though, as I did not awake to their common ringing. Just as well, the noise is irritating and sours my mood. I’m sure my herd mates have noticed, they chalk it up to adolescence. I know better, something further is wrong but I cease to bother them with my needs. One horse is someone I do not know, at least not yet anyways, a flaxen chestnut colored male. What interests me more is my friend Reuen who is now beside him. Reuen. The simple woman, I worry for her often, more so than I do myself. I worry for Mother just the same, they both seem to lack a common sense that I come by naturally. They were easy targets, and they did not seem to heed the fact.
The drifts cause little trouble for me, my limbs are as long as they are dark. I would be tall, having not even reached my year mark and I was growing rapidly, and I was certain the outcome. I would be spared my Mother’s slight build, but it was one more aspect of myself that took after my Sire. That, that I was not so quick to be pleased about. My coat had come in thick, a prize I am pleased with, I am warm and that is all that matters. What is more unwelcome to me is the fading of my color, it had spread across the top of my head and down to my muzzle already. A deep slate colored gray, hairs finding their way down my nape as well. A nicker frees itself from my ivory cage, before I vocalize her name. ”Hey, Reuen. Who is that you’re with?” I call suspiciously, approaching the two, my copper colored eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Mother would think I was rude, but she wasn’t here to chastise me for my guarded nature, my smart nature I thought.
