Dickere told Hickere she'd seen Braylen enter the forest with a mare not too long ago and Hickere's interest was piqued. While the herd of the forest was one big, happy family, Hickere recognized the fact that she was of Braylen's herd. This made those that were also beneath him her direct, new family. Hickere was a socialite and had no qualms about searching to the very ends of the forest in order to find someone to spend time with and talk to. Who better than her new sisters? Who better than this new mare that had come in with Braylen?
So while Dickere and Dock pawed at the snow to dig it away from dead, stringy, and bitter yellow grass, Hickere took off into the quiet of the forest. After a while the sounds of the herd faded and she listened to her soft breaths breaking in the open air as well as the chirp of a bird here or there in the distance. The clouds had shed new snowfall the evening prior, but it had been only an inch of fresh white powder. Now the clouds hung in the sky, a dreary gray blanket, drifting lazily overhead. Hickere eyed them, but doubted snow would fall again. Winter, after all, was coming to a close. Spring would come, sheĦŻd be three, and the forest would explode with ripe vegetation once more.
She sighed and rounded a corner of trees only to have a strong, fresh scent of new horse brush across her nostrils. Hickere's eyes widened and her ears swiveled, listening to where the stranger could be. A soft whinny called gently from her lips, not wanting it to stretch too far, only to reach whoever it was that was nearby. As she turned and followed she quickly came upon a mare she hadn't met yet and she hoped...
"Hello," she called above the soft, gentle calm of the forest in winter, "I'm Hickere, a mare of Braylen's." Dark-tipped ears turned toward the mare she waited to see if her suspicions would be confirmed as correct.
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