A few snowflakes slowly drift down from the heavy snow laden gray clouds overhead. A warning for the inhabitants of the Inlet, that soon the first winter's storm would blow down from the mountain peaks. The grulla pony king watches the sleeping forms of the mares of the Inlet, his mares. His ochre eyes rest on the gilded form of Freya, they linger there, he watches her and Bjorn sleep. He steps from his vantage point, he wanders through the mares, until he reaches Freya. He seeks out her shoulder with his dark lips, he nudges her until she stirs from her sleep. A smile spreads across his face, he savors this moment; you never could know what tomorrow would bring.
A movement stirs Björn from his sleep, he turns his head upwards, and his blue eyes fall on the face of his father. An eager nicker escapes his lips, he had hardly spent much time with his father; who was very busy with keeping the herd happy. He pulls his spindly legs underneath of his body, awkwardly he lurches onto his hooves. He reaches towards his mother, his pink lips nibble on her thick winter coat. He too, had grown a fuzzy winter coat, he watches in awe, as the first few snowflakes land on his pink muzzle. He gives a snort, they were cold. "Momma. What are these?" He looks up at his mom, with wonder in those blue eyes.
Dögun proudly looks down at their son, he was growing way to fast. He reaches his dark nose to meet the soft pink nose of their son, he would grow to be strong. He can see the wonder that was in his son's eyes, this was his first winter. He would have to learn how to survive in this cold temperature, or else. Dögun knew that life in the Inlet was difficult, but he knew that if his son was anything like his parents, he would easily figure it out. He lets his attention waver to Freya. "What would you like to do my love?"
Bjorn flicks his fuzzy ears at the deep bass sound of his father's voice. A soft snort escapes his pink nostrils, he was content, until he realized his tummy rumbled. He looks around, with a grunt, he takes a few steps away from his parents. His young teeth seek out some of the grasses that grew in the clearing, he quietly munches on a few. Some of them were bland and tasteless, while others were sweet. He was learning, slowly. His short ebony tail slaps his painted sides, it was just about useless; that dang tail. "Momma. Are you hungry?"
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