Winter had finally released its grip upon the Forest and spring was settling in nicely. The trees were full of new leaves and the tender shoots of green grass were beginning to cover the territory to supply its residence with fresher supplement. Braylen had filled out nicely with the new vegetation to chew upon, his chest and hips much broader than they had been during the wintertime. He still did not house the muscles of a mature stallion but the young man was still growing and showed the potential to be a handsome man.
With a mouthful of grass, a few green stems poking out of his lips, the young stallion wandered a well-worn trail that took him to the creek bank. Braylen constantly found himself making the trip from the edges of the herd to the water, looking down at his reflection and wondered what other people seen when they looked at him. He hoped they saw strength; something the young man had always prided himself on. Since birth he had always held his head up much like a king would, looking upon others like his followers but not with cruelty. Just a self-assurance he was born with and could not help.
With a snort the stallion lowered his head until his lips touched the cold surface of the water. He had already swallowed the grass he had been chewing on and washed it down with a drink of the fresh liquid. After getting his fill he raised his head just to look out among the trees. His blue eyes seemed unfocused with thought as he simply stood and lost himself to the throes of his own mind.
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