08-11-2019, 06:56 AM
We got older and I should have known
that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
that I’d feel colder when I walk alone
Hyaline has attracted a visitor today. A tiny, leggy, playful visitor, who after not being intercepted by one of the more... social inhabitants of the mountain kingdom, starts to call out.
Rookie mistake, but she’s only a few months old - maybe two or three - and although the scaled roan had been content with simply watching her scrape her legs on the rocks, for there was something intriguing in the she kept on tryin over and over again, he didn’t feel like having her be torn apart by the mountain lions.
A sigh, a stretch, and the stallion makes his way down. It was possible she’d caught a whiff of him when the wind turned, but it was also completely logical for her to smell some older trail - at her age, he figured that she might not know the difference between ‘currently present’ and ‘passed by an hour ago’.
He spots her movement much quicker than she would be able to find him, even with her tinier body - that’s why he hadn’t bothered to get down earlier; he could see her just fine and she wasn’t a threat to her environment or herself. Until now.
The roan walks up to the little girl and gives her a scrutinizing look. ”Why do I have the feeling you don’t exactly belong here?” he asks her, almost rhetorically. His golden tail, slashed with mostly white and a single black streak, swings idly by his legs in a movement vaguely similar to irritation at her apparent running away from home (she smells of the redwood forest). Nevertheless it’s more meant as a warning or scolding, than that he actually minds her being here. ”Where’s your mother?” he adds. Surely she must be worried, and it might be good to remind the girl about that little fact.
It would have been even funnier to him if he knew who her parents are, and perhaps he’ll find out later - for now though, she looks a random tiny white-and-silver filly to him. Taigan she might be, or an orphan raised there - honestly he doesn’t actually care as long as he knows where to drop her off later.
Rookie mistake, but she’s only a few months old - maybe two or three - and although the scaled roan had been content with simply watching her scrape her legs on the rocks, for there was something intriguing in the she kept on tryin over and over again, he didn’t feel like having her be torn apart by the mountain lions.
A sigh, a stretch, and the stallion makes his way down. It was possible she’d caught a whiff of him when the wind turned, but it was also completely logical for her to smell some older trail - at her age, he figured that she might not know the difference between ‘currently present’ and ‘passed by an hour ago’.
He spots her movement much quicker than she would be able to find him, even with her tinier body - that’s why he hadn’t bothered to get down earlier; he could see her just fine and she wasn’t a threat to her environment or herself. Until now.
The roan walks up to the little girl and gives her a scrutinizing look. ”Why do I have the feeling you don’t exactly belong here?” he asks her, almost rhetorically. His golden tail, slashed with mostly white and a single black streak, swings idly by his legs in a movement vaguely similar to irritation at her apparent running away from home (she smells of the redwood forest). Nevertheless it’s more meant as a warning or scolding, than that he actually minds her being here. ”Where’s your mother?” he adds. Surely she must be worried, and it might be good to remind the girl about that little fact.
It would have been even funnier to him if he knew who her parents are, and perhaps he’ll find out later - for now though, she looks a random tiny white-and-silver filly to him. Taigan she might be, or an orphan raised there - honestly he doesn’t actually care as long as he knows where to drop her off later.
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[Celina]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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