So, everyone is raised with old folk tales and scary stories. No one makes it out of foalhood without hearing something that would make them shake in their boots of cry with fright. No one was exempt from those rules. That was, until a young mustang was born in a land far away. His mother tried to scare him straight and keep him on the straight and narrow, but the young stud colt could not be kept at bay. He was always searching for trouble and keeping his mother on her toes, hence the reason she was a graying mare at the young age of seven or so. Now? The young stallion had traveled away from his home land, in search of something that he could honestly call his own. Be it his strength, or that of his willpower, the stallion could not really tell.
Nawahi, the stallion named Brave by native people seemed to follow in the footsteps laid out by his said name. He was a larger equine, not the largest by far, but far from the small side. With a robust barrel chest and a head that could make a woman drool, the stallion packed it all with a type of swagger. It wasn't really a swagger he noticed, but he had pride in every step he took. There was no real sign of what he would be once he was older than two years, but that was a story he had to write for himself. Currently, Nawahi found himself on a set of islands, ones he had never heard of before and were teaming with the scent of other horses. He had not come across any yet, but he did hope he would not be roaming alone for much longer.
Stepping out of the water, Nawahi shook out his fur. The long strands of his mane were tangled from the currents he was went through and his tail touched his hocks in a dancing like motion. His brown eyes blinked ever so faintly and the white mark on his face gleamed thanks to the saltwater and sun mixture. He felt the faint sign of a sunburn on his little digit of a pink nose, but he was not one to care as he stepped through the sand and pulled his hooves with great strides onto solid ground. Sand was a work out, that much you could see with how his haunches flexed. Having swam and come from land without sand, he didn't know what to make of the fine sediment just yet.
Scanning the land around him, Nahawi snorted the water from his nostrils and once again shook out his glistening red dun coat. He worried the salt would stick to him from the water, but he had none to fear for as he dried, he realized the salt wasn't really in the standard rock form like the ones he would find back home digging around in the dirt, finding little particles of the substance. Huffing out a sigh, Nahawi soon enough found himself under the shade of a tree, his eyes closing thanks to the hard journey he had taken to get here. For now, the stallion was at peace, but he was always ready for someone else to show up. Nahawi… Brave, bold, and a little unhinged, but a calm and mellow fellow all the same. He was a good lad, once you understood his whacked out playful nature.
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