Tall and bold, Frey has hit technical maturity. Yes, that boldness likely wouldn’t do him any favors. The colt was something else entirely. Maturity of body wasn’t maturity of mind. Wasn’t maturity of soul. With all the testosterone and raw power, the colt was probably a menace. The danger was mostly to himself, in reality. Frey would probably put himself in the position for an ass kicking one of these days.
He moved to the Common with a newfound spring in his step. He’d grown up considering what… well, what went on in the Common. It was a bit like the wild west, anyone without a home fair game for claiming. Frey wasn’t sure what he thought about that, the ability to just… take someone. Just say to them hey, you’re mine now. Was that right? Frey’s brow furrowed as he thought of it. Some of the ways of adults were lost to him, and would continue to be.
The Common. Frey had been here before, when he’d ferried Pippin to his home in the Lagoon on a dark and snowy night. The land really… yeah, it wasn’t that exciting. Largely featureless. He’d walked so many trails between the Lagoon and the Common, and they were among the most boring. As he moved to where the trees parted, Frey can hear a call. Distinctively a woman. His ears flickered forward, scanning the world around him. Ah, there.
She was a pretty, golden tan with swaths of white. Frey’s gait is an easy trot, legs long enough to eat the ground. He calls back to her, an echo of her own. Oh… oh no. As he approaches, Frey is suddenly nervous. What would he say? Had he ever actually had a conversation with a woman that wasn’t his mother? His head spins for a moment. Shit, shit, shit, what was he going to do? What was he going to say? Frey had already called out, and it was too late to turn back.
Way too late to turn back. No, the barely-a-man would complete his approach. Frey draws to the woman’s side, but keeps a polite distance-- he’s got manners. What was he going to say? He takes a breath, gaze settling on her face. “Glad to see that spring is here,” Frey’s voice cracked over the word spring. He’s mortified. How was she going to react? What was she going to do? Would she make fun of him? The colt is gawky, awkward. Why did he think this was a good idea? Oh no.
two. friesian x. sooty red roan. 17.3Hh.
Tyr x Kvothe
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