The Lagoon was way too quiet for his taste. There was nothing to do but step on bugs and little animals. There was no one to play with. Yes, he did miss his mother, but she had been very clear about “following her.” He was to stay in the Lagoon. The roan colt was not quite as amused as everyone else by this fact. In fact, he had half a mind to go after his mother, at least she had talked with him and begrudgingly entertained him.

Sadly, he also didn’t want to face her fury. He’d already faced that once, back when she had decided one day that he had to eat that pesky grass stuff (yuck). It had been totally out of the blue and uncalled for. Or at least, Léon still felt that way. He was still quite a youth, but he wasn’t quite as gangly as he had been. His face was slim and he was still infuriatingly small. He was beginning to think he was going to be a tiny horse. Yeah… not his favorite idea of course.

The red roan tucked his nose about the grasses of the Lagoon. They were dead and drying. It was cold. There was some white stuff (his father called it “snow”) on the ground. It was wet. It made him wet. He hadn’t spotted a weasel since his escapade with Geridriful; in fact he hadn’t had any fun in just as long. His amber eyes looked about the quiet Lagoon and he sighed.

Yeah… All alone and no fun to be had.