04-15-2021, 09:55 PM
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On the morning of the Midsummer Fair, Targaryen wakes with a stomach full of butterflies and a messy bed. There is an ache behind his eyes, mild enough to fade by the time he stretches out his legs — yet it speaks of a restless night. Since asking Cheri to go with him to the Fair, Targaryen has felt tense. He thinks it is for a good reason, but he tries to ignore what those reasons are during the day. As the dark green stallion begins to carefully nudge his feathers into place, he wonders if his purposeful avoidance has caused his mind to spin in his sleep.
Hopefully tonight he will sleep better than the past weeks. Targaryen makes his way to a nearby stream, watching for a moment as the water rolls itself down toward the ocean. Focusing his eyes on his reflection, the tobiano gives a snort of amusement at the sight of himself. It seems his restless sleep made an impression on his outward appearance as well; his forelock lies mussed between his ears and various plant life pokes around his face from his mane. It takes Targaryen a moment to make himself presentable, and by the time he has finished, the sun is high enough that he heads toward the north beach.
He hadn’t felt shy asking Cheri to go with him — in fact, it had felt natural. It had seemed like it would be obvious they would go together; they do everything together anyway. Yet as Targaryen comes to a stop on the open beach, the butterflies in his stomach create a chorus with the thumping of his heart. As his soft brown eyes search the treeline for Cheri’s familiar face, the stallion thinks he shouldn’t have ignored his tension.
Hopefully tonight he will sleep better than the past weeks. Targaryen makes his way to a nearby stream, watching for a moment as the water rolls itself down toward the ocean. Focusing his eyes on his reflection, the tobiano gives a snort of amusement at the sight of himself. It seems his restless sleep made an impression on his outward appearance as well; his forelock lies mussed between his ears and various plant life pokes around his face from his mane. It takes Targaryen a moment to make himself presentable, and by the time he has finished, the sun is high enough that he heads toward the north beach.
He hadn’t felt shy asking Cheri to go with him — in fact, it had felt natural. It had seemed like it would be obvious they would go together; they do everything together anyway. Yet as Targaryen comes to a stop on the open beach, the butterflies in his stomach create a chorus with the thumping of his heart. As his soft brown eyes search the treeline for Cheri’s familiar face, the stallion thinks he shouldn’t have ignored his tension.
@[Cheri]