bacardi
Time felt like a fickle thing. One moment it was rushing by, and the next it felt as if it were at a stand still. Bacardi knew it was worry making him feel that way. It had been some time since the Peak residence had left to join the war; his mother, Macabre, leading the way. He missed her with a fierce longing, would she ever return? He could not think of the unfavorable, of the other what if that might occur.
The brave red mare was heavy on his mind, making Bacardi unaware of where his youthful legs carried him. He was reaching the age of two, so his mane and tail had grown longer and his boyish features changing to that of a stallion’s. Was he supposed to let go at this age? Drawing to a halt, Bacardi let his ears flick back in uncertainty before an unknown voice brought them forward. Goldish eyes seeming more lupine than equine peered at the beautiful mare as his nares drew in her scent. He didn’t recognize the foreign smell, but it drew him closer in curiosity.
She was hunting butterflies? A smile curled his dark lips, his bay crown lifting as his two tone tailed raised in excitement. Maybe he could help her? Glancing around to see if he could spot any of the insects, it dawned on him the territory he had dare wander in. The territory that put the stranger in danger. Head turning to the mare, he approached at a fast walk until he stopped to stand a few strides away. “I’m sorry to intrude, Miss.” He said, giving a small dip of his head. “But this is a dangerous place for a mare.” And stallions, but he hoped the crisp scent of the Peak clinging to his flesh kept him safe.
male - mutt - 14.3(wfg) - yearling - Ee Aa Ff nT
html by shiva; edited by frost