B O N D U R A N T
The forest was quiet these days, which seemed fitting in his opinion. The trees held so many secrets, had seen countless things, watched horses be birthed, live, and die beneath the canopy, it was only right that the atmosphere be reverent. He could not exactly pinpoint why entering the forest sent a chill up your spine and prompted you not to speak too loudly even when there were no other ears to hear but the trees. It suited him.
On occasions like today he felt the urge to head back to the common lands and perhaps gather more into his family, but he was content enough (with a touch of lazy) that the feeling quickly passed and he could resume standing next to the gently bubbling river contemplating a vast amount of nothingness. He preferred the silence. It was then, enjoying the peace and quiet, that a distant sound forced his ears to twitch unwillingly. In a chain reaction that took place in the blink of an eye the worst case scenarios ran through his mind and every muscle in his body tensed. With no more than the mere shake of his heavy head he whirled on his back legs and took off in the direction the noise came from.
Expertly he navigated the treacherous roots, low hanging limbs, and various other obstacles the Forest offered focused entirely on a slight blur of movement he had seen through the foliage. Had the child been a darker color he might have trampled right over his petite form, but by some grace of God the gray-speckled child stood in high contrast to the deep green and brown of the rest of the land. Sighting the spindly-legged foal caused him to come crashing to a halt, his spotted rear tucking beneath him slightly as he reared up to avoid stepping on whoevers child this was.
Finally he came to a rest, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as he sought to regulate his breathing. With nostrils flared he loomed over the gray child, hooves spread wide from his sudden stop, and simply stared down at a loss for words. Well this was different.
male // andalusian mix // seventeen.one // seven // bay pintaloosa [Ee/Aa/TT/LPlp] // riley
it is not violence that sets mens apart, it is the distance that he is prepared to go |
