At the sound of splashing Braylen blinked his eyes into focus to rest them on the dark figure of his father’s mare. He could tell by her ebony frame that she wasn’t much older than him; perhaps just a few years which gave him hope that she wouldn’t quite be as mature as the other mares in the herd. Someone to run the trails with instead of constantly being solo made him determined to make friends; though it didn’t seem that hard since she was already friendly.
“Hello” he replied, his tones a mixture of both the high sounds of a colt and the deep rumble of a stallion. Braylen spoke quietly much like his father with a mellow sense that showed he was the laid back sort. “My name is Braylen and I am the son of Lyden and Skylar” he affirmed her question with a slight nod. All the while as he spoke the young stallion took in Azazel’s appearance. She seemed rough despite the easy life among the trees and he wondered what had happened to make her look that way.
Taking a step closer, Braylen extended his nose to exchange breaths for a more proper greeting and to burn the scent to memory. Though he had met her once before when Lyden had first gathered the herd during Jab’s reign, Braylen had not really paid much attention to the mares but more of the other young stallion that had once resided here. Braylen had thought Remo would have been his accomplice but that had been a disappointment he didn’t like to think about often. So he focused on the mare and gave her a faint smile.
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