SCARECROW

Having a home had done much to change his outlook on life. No longer did he toil away through the days just waiting for the hours to go by, half wishing the time would pass more quickly. Crow had begun to enjoy his time on Salem, the warm sun always there to chase away the chill and wrap him in comfort. Even his health had improved with the return of at least some of his appetite.

The bones of his body were still largely visible, but the caverns between his ribs had begun to fill in, and the hollows above his eyes were less pronounced. He looked more equine, less ghost. Soon, he thought he might even meander to the Commons to see if there were any mares that might also enjoy the Desert he was beginning to think of as home.

Crow wasn't sure if going in the fall would work out better or worse for him. He certainly wouldn't be the first choice for many, especially when a mare in heat could attract nearly any stallion she wanted. I wouldn't reach that high anyway. He muses as he walks, letting the sand give way below his hooves. Maybe an older mare though, or one that's already pregnant may be desperate enough to take me.

He smiles at the thought. It had been far too many years since he'd heard the pitter pat of tiny hooves around, and even if they were not his own, he'd love to hear them again.

The smell of a new equine, one he has not yet met, seeps into his dusky nostrils and he breaks from his thoughts to look up for the source. He expects to see Cain escorting a new mare perhaps, or even a child of his that Crow has not seen around. What greets his eyes, however, is a mare similar in shape to himself. In no way does she resemble the heavy leaders of the Desert herd and his head cocks in surprise. What was this desert flower doing here?

Crow has not had to fulfill many duties as a resident of the Desert, although he has every intention of upholding his oath to Cain. He would protect this herd from what he could, and watch over it as though it were his own. Regardless of how pretty the girl was, he should find out her purpose here.

Scarecrow nickers to the girl softly, his nostrils flaring with the movement and orients his travel towards her. At this distance, he can see that something has caused the pretty mare to freeze, as though something was frightening her. He half-halts as he considers this, not wanting to scare the spotted mare. His amber gaze peers toward the direction in which she stares, but he can see nothing amiss. No snakes, dead bodies, or rifts in time and space. Perhaps something happened here? She looks terrified.

The leggy stallion slows to a halt near her, ears pricked. "Miss, are you okay?"

Miss? I don't think I've used 'miss' in years. He thinks to himself in amusement, settling near to the mare with this hip cocked.