Nimbus sulked back to the more hospitable shore from the heart of his land. Though he was exhausted from his venture inland he did not dare slow down or drag his feet; those acts were practically against his morals, what few he had. If you are to walk, you may as well walk like you mean it, and thus he did. The blue roan looked proud yet felt empty and lost. The two mares who resided here (or once did) worried him. He needed someone else to share his burden with.
A call answered his wish for a companion... But it was more challenging than welcoming. He trotted towards it, still towards the shore, but now with a flicker of hopeful purpose burning inside of him. The voice was familiar, but not well engraved in his memory. He longed to put it to a figure. Once he had made it up a smaller dune he switched to a powerful gallop to gain momentum to scale the much larger obstacle nature had put in his way. His legs slowed as he approached the peak until he stopped. At the top of the dune his dark coat contradicted both the sand and the sky.
But as he crested the dune preceding the shore, he looked down to see an unfamiliar white mare wash up on shore. As she had overcome the sea and the waves before her arrival, he had overcome his own, though his were covered in sand. They were behind him, and he was curious as to what was behind this delicate flower. Certainly not much with the innocent and unknowing way she walks about.
With keen eyes he watched as she began to walk around the beach. What could she want? Nimbus wasn't known well among the other horses who traveled the island; was it just by chance she came here? The white mustang walked towards someone else; a mare he hadn't spotted before. Her coat matched the sand and her muscles were well defined enough to barely see from here. It was the gold mare he contended with in the common.
Seeing her reminded him of his last words to her, and kindled a fire of joy and gleeful rage. He charged down the side of the dune, the sun baring down on him only to be ignored. The sand muffled his otherwise thunderous footsteps. The blazing heat of summer in Salem would make a fight difficult, but that didn't deter or even register to Nimbus. He was desperate for a distraction, and confessed to himself he craved equine interaction.
He conveniently arrived at his target as the white mare did too, just in time to hear a question posed to his rival. Something about her use of the word 'place' offended Nimbus. He couldn't help but interject his opinion about his territory before the gold mare could answer. "This 'place', this beautiful wasteland, this apocalyptic refuge, this rebel against life, is my territory and home..." He was surprised to see himself so defensive about his home. "So," he addressed his acquaintance, "you want me to stop hiding. Does that mean you're here for round two?" Curiosity struck him once again about this innocent on his shore. "But why are you here?" He asked the white mare. He was hyper from his multitude of emotions; he must have seemed insane, not that he wasn't, but now he couldn't contain it. It was a dreadful feeling and he needed something to snap him out of it. Maybe one of these mares wrecked on his shore could provide what he needed.
Clydesdale mutt | stallion | 17.1hh | blue roan sabino | 5 years