The darkness had come over, pulling a blanket over the land. It was shadow and cold, and it made Frey feel alive. Yes, the sun had set while he was still out, while he’d been learning the trails left by his kinsmen of old. He didn’t mind it. Frey knew it all well enough, and he could return to the Lagoon with his eyes closed. There was no fear in the colt. No, there is a wildness to this yearling that could never be tamed or held.
Nothing would hold him. No chains, no man, no woman. None of them. He is enjoying himself, even in the dark. The child is grateful that his parents wouldn’t send for him, wouldn’t make note of where he’d gone. They didn’t care, and that’s to the advantage of a colt like him. Frey had been growing wild, and would continue to. Wild and drunk on his own freedom.
Night had fallen, a protective cloak around his shoulders. Frey raced down the shore of the Common, kicking up his heels as he did. At the boundary of the Common, he’d pick up the trail that would bring him home, and he’d sleep in tomorrow morning. Nothing to worry, nothing to care. Only his own learning and his own growing. The life of a child, a child like Frey, a child on his own… he could afford to live selfishly.
There is a pride to him, the way he carries himself. Still alert, shining in the moonlight. Frey can hear someone else out here-- he’s not alone. “Hello?” It’s a call into the darkness, his head canting to the side. There is a scent on the stiff winter breeze, a man. “It’s late, dangerous to be out on your own.” His voice has not yet fully dropped, yet they ring with a confidence beyond his years. Kindness, too, plays in the tone. Frey slows as he draws near to the source of the scent, gaze open and curious.
yearling. friesian x. sooty red roan. 17.3Hh.
Tyr x Kvothe
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