I would honestly love you now,
But I would lovingly let you down.
He had an idea.
Maybe it started as a dream. Whatever half-lucid train of thought from which it began had snowballed, and as the stars faded from the violet sky overhead, and the sun loomed large over the ocean in the distance, Jabari's gears turned it into a full-fledged plan.
He was going to break himself and Calypso out of this joint.
The idea itself made his heart stammer in his chest. It filled him with hope and love, sensations he thought had been long lost on him. Perhaps this is what he needed to do all along - instead of languishing in his sorrow and streak of misfortune, it was time for him to do something about his own situation. The two-toned stallion of the Prairie had yet to approach Calypso about this hair-brained ordeal. He knew he had to flesh out the details some more, and maybe begin preparing. He was rather fit, from his time in the war and perhaps all the constant moves from his various captive period, but Rougaru had beaten him down, and miserably so, in the past. There was a good chance that this brilliant idea of his would never work.
The painted stallion trudged along the well-worn jungled paths. He stopped only to drink from the creek, but then kept up with his pacing. His mind was awhirl, and he struggled to make sense of these fragments of ideas and thoughts aimed at trying to outwit the silver bay stallion. It wasn't until he heard the groaning moan of another did he snap out of his mind and return fully to the present in Paradise.
Jabari's head cocked to one side as he peered through the wide-brimmed leaves and vines to make out the spotted, dark frame of an unfamiliar mare in the distance. His nostrils flared and a chill ran down the length of his spine when he caught just a glimmer of familiarity - Luthien? He takes a step closer, through the clawing branches and nickers warmly into the wet air, announcing his intrusion. His blue eyes fall on her, as she kicks some dust and dirt over a damp, mangled fern. His jaws clench almost involuntarily, thinking of the taste. "You'll want to avoid those, and any others with thin leaves just like it." He offers with the flick of his red tail. "The tall chutes are the best, in my opinion, at least. The most like Luthien, but they still pail in comparison." Jabari kept his distance, as he could see plain as day that the mare was not happy to be here. But his curiosity piqued.
"I'm Jabari, from the Prairie." He offered with a short-lived smirk. "... Or prisoner No. 1. Actually, maybe No. 3. What number are you?"
Stallion | Brienne x Shamwari | Chesnut Overo | 15.2 h| Photo © Carina Mailwald | © Vinyl |
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