SCARECROW

Funny how the world kept surprising him. A scant few months ago he'd washed ashore on the Commons himself, near starvation and barely strong enough to stand up. A short conversation later and he'd found himself a home and a lieutenant position with Cain and his family in the Desert. A home that fit him in so many ways that he couldn't even count them all. Even the following Fall had brought new surprises, and while his heart hurt a little knowing the two mares could not return with him to the Desert, it was a strange warmth in his heart to know that come Spring he would have two new children roaming the world.

It was a new chance for him. A way to try to right his past wrongs and failures as a sire. In all reality, these little nuclei of hope had worked into his heart and broken wounds that he hadn't acknowledged for a long time. For the first time in forever, he wanted to see the next day.

And now, more than that, he wanted someone to spend it with.

It's not that Cain's family wasn't fantastic. They were, truly. But he did want another creature that looked to him first for companionship, that he could confide his darkest thoughts to without fear of reprisal or judgement. He wanted to himself what Cain had with Geneva.

The graying stallion sucked in a deep breath, his amber gaze roving over the open gathering area. He felt strangely nervous and out of practice, nearly intimidated to walk up to a mare now that it was something more than just a potential conversation on the line.

Thus he'd waited in the edges of the Commons and watched for a while. Another stallion - far healthier looking than Crow had been when he arrived - had been claimed within moments by a handsome buckskin mare, the heat already dissipated from her skin. It amused him to see the subject of his discussion with Cain playing out directly before him. To her credit, the stallion had gone along with it, so more power to both of them.

Next, a tiny mare, so small it would have been laughable to stand they side by side, was approached by a younger male. She looked like a young child, not even out of her nascent heat and the thought of taking her home crossed his mind if only to protect her from less scrupulous stallions. He doesn't though, just remains waiting patiently, his thoughts on his own future. Crow waits in this fashion for an entire day, until the heat of the sun disappears and the moon rises to bleach the land of its color. He's nearly given up for the day, ready to go home to the heat of the Desert rather than endure another day on the cold mainland when something catches his eye.

He turns toward it, dark rimmed ears pricking in a mare's direction with a worried frown. The mare was reddish in color, like a rose in winter, and so nervous, he could tell. Her eyes were wide and movements uneasy, her sleek grey coat flecked with the froth of panic. Unbidden, his hooves carry him in her direction and a low whicker rumbles from his chest. As he paces closer, he takes in more details of her figure - the shape of her so similar to those of his family with their proud Teke lines and elegant gracefulness, the gleam of her coat even salt soaked though it may be.

The thought of her being one of his people, of his home, stalls him and his ears flick back for a moment. He'd been so certain that his past would not follow him here. Had he been wrong?

His own dark nostrils flare, drinking in the scent of the mare, before deciding that the likelihood of that being true is to be so small as to be infintesimal. This is further cemented by the words she shouts into the ocean waves. The first is foreign to him, though it's cadence rings in his heart with a familiarity that he cannot put into words.

"Can I help you find someone?" He trots towards the mare, his own gaze worried for her. Whatever it is that she has lost, it must be precious to her.