03-15-2020, 02:18 PM
With the sun beginning it's descent over the far horizon, there was still a thin seam of light shining through the redwoods of the northern border. The coat of the stallion racing through them was lit several shades brighter whenever he passed through a space wide enough to accommodate the sun, his now black mane and tail reflecting like an onyx jewel. Then, he would once again disappear among the shadows despite his bright coat, giving off the illusion that he had only been there for a brief second like one's figment of imagination.
It wasn't all a trick of the light though, for, like many horses in the land, the young stallion possessed a special gift that, to his annoyance, had taken a long while to perfect and get a hold of. He'd had more than one embarrassing situation where he was either hidden or visible, and no doubt his siblings, friends, and parents would tease him about it for years to come.
But he took it with a grain of salt; he wasn't against a fun poke at his pride on occasion. Not if it was another horse he felt close enough with. Those he hated, absolutely a different story. One in particular as well, especially when he did something as gutsy as insulting the stallion's family.
Should he do it in front of both the stallion himself, and his sire, well... it wouldn't end well, to put it in the mildest tone possible.
The golden stallion had a number of things to deal with lately, mostly his own turmoil. He felt the same stress his sire did even though he didn't have the weight of a kingdom weighing down on his shoulders, which, if he said that out loud to many, may not have even seemed in the same class. But to the young stallion, it was. He still considered himself in training, for he had never been on a mission alone, and barely any with his dam considering it was fragile times they were in, with one territory striving to try and take over theirs, and a crazed enemy of his sire's on the loose who knew where.
Kalil also felt sorry for his sire as well. He knew that Aten preferred to avoid conflict, especially physical, even though he was more than tough enough to handle something of that matter on his own with no trouble. And despite the rage he felt toward Wolfbane, Kalil knew that Aten would avoid fighting if he could, simply because he felt it was a waste of time and only led to unnecessary bloodshed. Kalil saw it his sire's way, as well as the way Wolfbane must have.
That, sometimes, fighting was the only path...
But the young stallion didn't want that type of thinking lingering in his mind. His dam had taught him that there was always a choice, even if one path seemed like a much more difficult contender. And Kalil was growing careful enough to assess his options, but he knew a true test was yet to come. He could wait on that chance, considering enough craziness had happened lately.
He had heard about what happened in the Field, and, upon the return of one of his sire's friends, something began drawing Kalil to the northern bay where he often liked to go for his runs at certain times of the day when the winds were much more aggressive. It was a test of his strength, to run against such a formidable power of nature, and he wasn't afraid of it like he had been as a colt. It inspired him to push himself, to continue his search for strength.
If only he knew at his age, it wasn't just about one's physical power.
Kalil's hooves thundered over the ground as he neared the beach, his hooves easily accepting the change in terrain as the earth shifted and made way for softer ground before transforming into the sand that lined the waves and prevented the ocean from thrashing against the land. His pace did not slow, his muscle memory easily helping his balance adjust so he wouldn't trip when the ground beneath him shifted so suddenly. His hooves sank a bit in the sand due to his weight, but it did little to deter his galloping speed.
Kalil himself, like his sire at his age, had filled out quite nicely as he neared a stallion's age. He was not yet as developed as his sire, but the young stallion's muscles were already lined and thick, but not building out against his frame, strapped against his body and framing his stature. His hooves had darkened in color to match the socks on his front legs, while the ones on his back were just a few shades lighter, echoing his sire's bloodline since they weren't known for a color past bay.
His mane and tail had also grown dark to as black as the night sky, naturally, but time of running along the sandy beaches and the dust that littered the forest floor during the dry months had speckled his hair with a light layering of dust, causing his mane and tail to be just a few shades lighter. However, they had grown to be as thick as Aten's already were, but short enough so that it didn't fail to nicely frame Kalil's neck, jowl, and face.
His face had grown quite handsome as well, the lines fine and proud, his muzzle tapered and handsome. He had more whiskers than his sire and dam did, but he lacked the longer hair under his chin that Aten had, giving the young stallion a less scruffier appearance. His forelock fell easily over his forehead, the hairs more spread out and sometimes blocking the corner of his eyes until he shook it loose.
He still looked young, youthful, but he had definitely grown to fit the physical image of his sire, at Kalil's age, to a t. Even Aten himself could see it, he just hadn't said anything out loud.
The young stallion's instincts were pulling him a bit south now, but definitely closer to the ocean. His eyes spotted the outline of a horse standing not far from the ocean's tide, much higher than during the day, licking at the other horse's hooves with each crashing wave. He recognized her instantly upon seeing the beautiful shining gold coat in the sunlight, his thoughts only confirmed as he got closer and began to see the fine lines and form that his fill friend had begun developing over a year ago.
He almost didn't say anything, afraid of breaking the beautiful illusion standing before him. Even though Kalil was still quite a young stallion, and hadn't had the urges to the degree his sire did during the late spring months, he occasionally felt the stirring in his gut that those of his kind were disposed to. He wouldn't consider himself jealous, but on the off occasion, if another colt or stallion was close to Ruthless, he would get a bit defensive and try to stay close to her, to intimidate others away from her.
And now, seeing her, he was glad he wasn't having those urges.
He watched silently as Ruthless brushed the water with her wing as gentle as a mother cat would groom her young, slowing his pace to a walk when he was only a few yards from her side. He blew air out of his nose to not only get rid of the sand that had gathered there, but also to alert the filly to his presence. He felt comfortable enough around her to walk to her side, gently brushing his muzzle along the line of her crest, an easy feat since he was taller than her. He felt the feathers of her wings brush his chest since he was standing close enough, a smile appearing on his face.
He didn't say anything, he just decided to stand beside her, to give her comfort. He could tell she had to get something off her chest, but he wouldn't push her to say anything if she didn't want to. He would let her speak when she felt ready.
@[Ruthless]
It wasn't all a trick of the light though, for, like many horses in the land, the young stallion possessed a special gift that, to his annoyance, had taken a long while to perfect and get a hold of. He'd had more than one embarrassing situation where he was either hidden or visible, and no doubt his siblings, friends, and parents would tease him about it for years to come.
But he took it with a grain of salt; he wasn't against a fun poke at his pride on occasion. Not if it was another horse he felt close enough with. Those he hated, absolutely a different story. One in particular as well, especially when he did something as gutsy as insulting the stallion's family.
Should he do it in front of both the stallion himself, and his sire, well... it wouldn't end well, to put it in the mildest tone possible.
The golden stallion had a number of things to deal with lately, mostly his own turmoil. He felt the same stress his sire did even though he didn't have the weight of a kingdom weighing down on his shoulders, which, if he said that out loud to many, may not have even seemed in the same class. But to the young stallion, it was. He still considered himself in training, for he had never been on a mission alone, and barely any with his dam considering it was fragile times they were in, with one territory striving to try and take over theirs, and a crazed enemy of his sire's on the loose who knew where.
Kalil also felt sorry for his sire as well. He knew that Aten preferred to avoid conflict, especially physical, even though he was more than tough enough to handle something of that matter on his own with no trouble. And despite the rage he felt toward Wolfbane, Kalil knew that Aten would avoid fighting if he could, simply because he felt it was a waste of time and only led to unnecessary bloodshed. Kalil saw it his sire's way, as well as the way Wolfbane must have.
That, sometimes, fighting was the only path...
But the young stallion didn't want that type of thinking lingering in his mind. His dam had taught him that there was always a choice, even if one path seemed like a much more difficult contender. And Kalil was growing careful enough to assess his options, but he knew a true test was yet to come. He could wait on that chance, considering enough craziness had happened lately.
He had heard about what happened in the Field, and, upon the return of one of his sire's friends, something began drawing Kalil to the northern bay where he often liked to go for his runs at certain times of the day when the winds were much more aggressive. It was a test of his strength, to run against such a formidable power of nature, and he wasn't afraid of it like he had been as a colt. It inspired him to push himself, to continue his search for strength.
If only he knew at his age, it wasn't just about one's physical power.
Kalil's hooves thundered over the ground as he neared the beach, his hooves easily accepting the change in terrain as the earth shifted and made way for softer ground before transforming into the sand that lined the waves and prevented the ocean from thrashing against the land. His pace did not slow, his muscle memory easily helping his balance adjust so he wouldn't trip when the ground beneath him shifted so suddenly. His hooves sank a bit in the sand due to his weight, but it did little to deter his galloping speed.
Kalil himself, like his sire at his age, had filled out quite nicely as he neared a stallion's age. He was not yet as developed as his sire, but the young stallion's muscles were already lined and thick, but not building out against his frame, strapped against his body and framing his stature. His hooves had darkened in color to match the socks on his front legs, while the ones on his back were just a few shades lighter, echoing his sire's bloodline since they weren't known for a color past bay.
His mane and tail had also grown dark to as black as the night sky, naturally, but time of running along the sandy beaches and the dust that littered the forest floor during the dry months had speckled his hair with a light layering of dust, causing his mane and tail to be just a few shades lighter. However, they had grown to be as thick as Aten's already were, but short enough so that it didn't fail to nicely frame Kalil's neck, jowl, and face.
His face had grown quite handsome as well, the lines fine and proud, his muzzle tapered and handsome. He had more whiskers than his sire and dam did, but he lacked the longer hair under his chin that Aten had, giving the young stallion a less scruffier appearance. His forelock fell easily over his forehead, the hairs more spread out and sometimes blocking the corner of his eyes until he shook it loose.
He still looked young, youthful, but he had definitely grown to fit the physical image of his sire, at Kalil's age, to a t. Even Aten himself could see it, he just hadn't said anything out loud.
The young stallion's instincts were pulling him a bit south now, but definitely closer to the ocean. His eyes spotted the outline of a horse standing not far from the ocean's tide, much higher than during the day, licking at the other horse's hooves with each crashing wave. He recognized her instantly upon seeing the beautiful shining gold coat in the sunlight, his thoughts only confirmed as he got closer and began to see the fine lines and form that his fill friend had begun developing over a year ago.
He almost didn't say anything, afraid of breaking the beautiful illusion standing before him. Even though Kalil was still quite a young stallion, and hadn't had the urges to the degree his sire did during the late spring months, he occasionally felt the stirring in his gut that those of his kind were disposed to. He wouldn't consider himself jealous, but on the off occasion, if another colt or stallion was close to Ruthless, he would get a bit defensive and try to stay close to her, to intimidate others away from her.
And now, seeing her, he was glad he wasn't having those urges.
He watched silently as Ruthless brushed the water with her wing as gentle as a mother cat would groom her young, slowing his pace to a walk when he was only a few yards from her side. He blew air out of his nose to not only get rid of the sand that had gathered there, but also to alert the filly to his presence. He felt comfortable enough around her to walk to her side, gently brushing his muzzle along the line of her crest, an easy feat since he was taller than her. He felt the feathers of her wings brush his chest since he was standing close enough, a smile appearing on his face.
He didn't say anything, he just decided to stand beside her, to give her comfort. He could tell she had to get something off her chest, but he wouldn't push her to say anything if she didn't want to. He would let her speak when she felt ready.
@[Ruthless]