04-08-2015, 12:50 PM
Though the bay stallion has spent equal parts of his life in both herds and kingdoms, he doesn’t have a preference for either. Of course, he prefers to be in charge, and herd life offers that by default. There are such wonderful benefits to not having been born a female. For now he has settled in the Dazzling Waterfall, and he does intend to stay there for as long as the neutral kingdom holds his attention. That might be for a decade, and it might be for a day.
Today he is in the Field in his capacity as Advisor of the Falls. It’s not as wonderful a title as king, but he’ll tolerate it for now. His queen is a rather pretty thing, and he’d prefer not to make enemies now that his old ones have either died off or disappeared. A fresh start, he has told himself often, a new beginning.
The black mare that grazes alone in the Field catches his eye, but as he makes his ambling way toward her, he sees that she’s first been approached by another mare. Texas scowls, but the roan carries no ugly flower marking, and he relaxes when he realizes she is not an Amazon. The third mare though, she is grey and marked and Texas huffs his irritation. He is out of earshot of them all, and he’s wiped the sour expression off his grizzled face entirely by the time he arrives beside them all.
“Hello ladies,” he says, stopping a comfortable distance away from them both (though his attention is mostly on the black mare). The bay stallion is smiling, a charming expression. He doesn’t want to pressure them, and his smile is warm and he does not seem threatening at all. He’d have liked to laze about in the sun for a little longer, but the little roan mare seems to be in a hurry to introduce herself and her kingdom. There’s something of a tremor in her voice, and Texas glances over at her curiously.
“I’m Texas,” he adds when the other mares have finished speaking, turning his brown gaze back on the mustang. “What’s your name?”
Today he is in the Field in his capacity as Advisor of the Falls. It’s not as wonderful a title as king, but he’ll tolerate it for now. His queen is a rather pretty thing, and he’d prefer not to make enemies now that his old ones have either died off or disappeared. A fresh start, he has told himself often, a new beginning.
The black mare that grazes alone in the Field catches his eye, but as he makes his ambling way toward her, he sees that she’s first been approached by another mare. Texas scowls, but the roan carries no ugly flower marking, and he relaxes when he realizes she is not an Amazon. The third mare though, she is grey and marked and Texas huffs his irritation. He is out of earshot of them all, and he’s wiped the sour expression off his grizzled face entirely by the time he arrives beside them all.
“Hello ladies,” he says, stopping a comfortable distance away from them both (though his attention is mostly on the black mare). The bay stallion is smiling, a charming expression. He doesn’t want to pressure them, and his smile is warm and he does not seem threatening at all. He’d have liked to laze about in the sun for a little longer, but the little roan mare seems to be in a hurry to introduce herself and her kingdom. There’s something of a tremor in her voice, and Texas glances over at her curiously.
“I’m Texas,” he adds when the other mares have finished speaking, turning his brown gaze back on the mustang. “What’s your name?”
T E X A S
immortal silver bay hybrid stallion
king of the falls