he had fallen into a comfortable rhythm with the ocean, the rise and set of the sun, and the loneliness that seemed to plague him. he was too content to venture forth in pursuit of a companion. perhaps that was due to the lingering fear of the responsibility he could end up with if he was successful in that pursuit. instead he managed to amuse himself in other ways, befriending the breeze that teased and cajoled him, the waves that he could stare at for hours a day, and the numerous tropical birds that sometimes irritated him as much as amused him. it wasn’t a perfect life but he was content. he knew that eventually he would have to endeavor to start a herd, a family, but couldn’t find any good reason to rush it along. like claiming this territory as his own, most good things that happened weren’t because he had planned them.
the good grass happened to grow quite a ways up the steep hillside, in various pockets here and there along the crest of the ridge. he favored those tender grasses in the morning, when they were ripe with dew and he could watch the sun rise over the glorious beach he called his own on a high perch. he was partaking his feast as the sun rose that morning as usual, cheerfully tearing bites of the lush green shoots while glancing toward the horizon as the sun slowly made it’s declaration of morning. it was a spectacular picture of purples, oranges, and that glorious yellow that seemed to meld into the hazy blue of the sea that made him more in love with his home each day. as the light crept onto the shore and up the beach he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. by the time he saw the red and white painted figure it was making its way to its feet. painstakingly it seemed. with a hurried gulp he swallowed his mouthful of grass and uttered a shrill whinny as he began his descent to the beach, hoping that it would carry down the hillside to the ears of his new guest.
he went as quickly as he could, picking down the tree and shrub littered slope side with surprising agility for a gangly four year old colt. he was actually kind of surprised when he thudded to a halt on the smooth sand without landing on his face having bypassed the winding trail down the hill for a more direct route. in a brisk trot he made way toward the arrival, a stallion he presumed now that he was closer and could see and catch the scent though it was doused in saltwater. as he drew closer he slowed, noticing the obvious distress this newcomer was in and spoke in a friendly easy-going manner.
are you alright? i’m roarke, steward of this empty land and no threat to you unless you have come to try and take it from me. please, let me show you the path to the spring.
it had been too long since he had a friend, besides a bird, to speak to and so he found his words spilling out. internally he rolls his eyes at himself and tries to smother his excitement at having the prospect of a friend wash up on the shore (literally) and with a wave of his head he gestures to a small opening in the foliage along the flat end of the beach, a path that lead to the only freshwater he knew of that wasn’t atop the ridge. it didn’t appear that climbing was going to be an option for his company any time soon.
lipping flowers and set my teeth in the silver of the moon
R O A R K Ehe is 4 years old, 16 hands tall and is a georgian grande with a bay rabicano coat played by kafkaesque |