When I was done dying, my conscience regained
So I began my struggle, a nothingness strained
Out a flash made of time, my new form blasted out
And it startled me so and I burst out a shout
"What lovely flowers." Fuast gently spoke under his breath as he looked at the different flowers that were blooming here and there. He loved flowers, he loved them especially when they were the freshly bloomed. Of course with the flowers came the bees, which he quiet enjoyed watching as they went from flower to flower. Such fascinating little things, surprising how much of a hard worker they were and that they'd give their lives to defend the hive. He respected the little yellow things, he'd been stung a few times in his life from trying to get closer to watch them so he kept himself at a distance from them. It wasn't that their sting hurt, it was just that it upset him a bit to see them die trying to hurt him. He was a sentimental fool sometimes and tended to read deeper into things than any sane person would.
"You dont want to really hurt me, now do you little bee?" Fuast inquired to the bug even though he knew he'd receive no answer. A smiled crossed his face as the little thing flew away, back to its hive he supposed. With a sigh he turned and walked closer to a small patch of flowers, lowering his skull to the ground he inhaled the scents of fresh spring flowers. It wasn't very manly to be smelling flowers but he wasn't trying to impress anyone and he did what he wanted regardless of what others thought of him. He wished to bath himself in the scent of flowers and the ocean breeze. Instead he committed the scents to memory and made his way to the shade.
It was as he was approaching the shade that he started to hear someone, someone singing? Something to do with smelly stallions. A soft snort left him as he flicked his curled ears. He was certainly not a smelly stallion. Fuast took pride in keeping himself clean and with the added bonus of less flies. Some would think him quiet girly to be so conscious of his hygiene. He hears the voice again, this time louder and he cocks his ears forward to catch her words better. Who is it, the other enquirers to him. He doesn't really know what to say to this. Surely the other hasn't even the faintest clue on who he is and he doesn't know who they are either. He's getting nervous now, he's not good with people.
"Uuumm, its Fuast? Might I ask who you might be?" Fuast's voice is smooth despite it never being used as often as it should. Smooth but surprisingly deep. He lets his curled ears swivel to the front to catch whatever the stranger might say next, his anxiety grows as he waits. What if they're some sort of jerk or rude. He'd hate to find him self in a verbal confrontation of any sort, he's more of pacifist and has only ever been in a fight about three times his entire life. Two of those he lost and one he won but only because he had weight on his side and it was close quarters combat.
F U A S T
At which my legs ran frantic like birds from a nest
And I ran until drained, leaving no choice but rest
So I fell asleep softly at the edge of a cave
But I should have gone in deeper but I'm not so brave
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