Dögun
We'll ride in the gathering storm
Thundering hooves reach his dark tipped ears, lifting his grullo head higher on his muscled neck, it was a relief to sight a familiar face. Soljor. As a sigh escapes his lips, a friendly smile crosses his dark lips as he greets him. They had only met a single time but a friendship had been struck. Perhaps it was a common enemy or the fact they both called this frigid island their home. But whatever the reason, he was happy to see the painted stallion appear from the forested region of the Bay. "Ahhh, it is good to see you as well. I am happy that we both have made it through another season with that wolf problem. I am hoping that it has been abolished until at-least spring." As the grullo he feels almost blessed to have made it another season as the king of the Inlet, it seemed as if turmoil was bubbling on the Lost Islands.
How are things? It had been busy in the Inlet trying to keep each member of the herd safe. All in all though they were fairing well. "It has been good in the Inlet, busy, but good. We have a few more foals in our herd, they keep things lively." His thoughts drift to Shiraz, who he knew had not much time to live. A tinge hurts his heart at the thought of such a young life, just snuffed out. Yet on a happier note he had Bastian, and Soda's two new foals.
"How have things around your herd been?" Dögun hoped that things were all well in the Bay. But a warning ticked at the back of his mind, it seemed as if the whole Islands were stirring to life. This stirring brought an uneasiness to the grullo, perhaps he should share his concern with the painted stallion before him. But he waited for the opportune moment.
word count: 319
Icelandic | Grullo [ Ee aa Dd] | 13.2 hh
King of the Inlet
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