With the arrival of spring in the forest had come a certain kind of ease for Han. His first few weeks here had been strange and disorienting, with him waking up almost every day not quite remembering where he was, and constantly bearing the feeling that he and Evren should not be here: that any time now there would materialize a reason for them to depart. Yet the days lengthened, the trees blossomed, and they did not leave; nor did they so much as discuss it. His mother seemed perfectly content here, and to a degree, Han could understand why. There was plentiful food, water, shelter, and little to no conflict between the residents. The forest seemed safe and tranquil: the perfect place for them to stay while they found their feet.
As the stress of the debacle in the desert passed, Han's dysphoria eased as well, and so over the past few weeks he had returned to himself, and was once more able to stand tall as a young stallion without much discomfort. Yet still there was something within him, something distant and restless: something that clawed at him whenever he set his eyes on the horizon or watched the other residents interacting, especially the only other stallion; something that made him lower his gaze whenever Evren spoke to him, when once he had met her eye without wavering. They had spent less and less time together, when once they had been inseparable, and Evren had seemingly given up on her attempts to encourage him to socialize with the others.
Then a foal was born. Han had watched the child from a distance, marveling at the smallness of it, the frailty. It was strange to think that he had once been that small himself. Lost for anything else to do, and almost feverish with fascination, Han watched the mother and child for days: discreetly, of course. Sometimes they did nothing of interest, but with the forest well into spring, there were always other things to catch his eye. Once, he spotted two birds engaging in some odd social behavior which ended with one mounting the other for a split second. It happened so fast, but he was not stupid; he was certain he understood what he was seeing, but even so, the notion was strange and foreign to him, and he watched with morbid fascination. He was two years old now, but sex and offspring were still as far from his mind as they had been when he was a newborn. He could not comprehend what brought two individuals together in such a messy way to produce a brand new life.
Today, however, was one of those warm, lazy days when hardly anything stirred. Han stood grazing at the edge of a clearing, enjoying the sunshine and watching the foal from a distance while existential ponderings tumbled through his mind. He had become so complacent in his seclusion lately that he blindly trusted the others to respect his boundaries as they had so far. Therefore, if someone were to approach, he likely would not notice right away.
2; mutt; sooty buckskin; 16.2hh
|
|
