There was always talk on the mainland of some island chain not far off shore and if one were strong enough, the chain could be reached. It was always something of a fairy tale. Lots of horses talked about the islands but rarely did anyone test the theory of its existence and actually try to go there. But today, Kestral does just that.
The swim is not as long as he expects. Just beyond the rocky shores of the mainland stretches a great land upon the horizon. Kestral climbs ashore, and finds himself on a lush expanse of open meadow. A buffet of delicious grass lie at his feet and other horses mingle in small groups across the landscape.
Kestral shakes excess water from his mane with a quick shake of the head and strides forth into the commons. He is what some might call a handsome stallion, tall and well built. His coat glistens, still wet, in the midday sun. A dizzying pattern of high contrast leopard spots set him apart from the crowd. His mane falls in a thick cascade over his eyes, eyes dark, but rimmed with white lashes.
Following Kestral, the shadow of a bird in flight sweeps across the grassland. The bird's harsh cry rings out, a sound to send a chill down the spine, or stand the hair upon the neck.
Kestral just smiles, then dips his head to graze.