15.3hh - Gypsy Vanner - Lead of the Inlet


Spring was was starting to touch upon the islands. Tinuvel, however, seemed to have been slow to understand what exactly that meant. The wind was still chilled, and the air still crisp, but the ice had started to thaw and the steam rising off the hot springs had turned to wisps instead of walls.

Pagan walked through his land, admiring the slow change to the scenery. He sniffed briefly at the budding trees and the grass starting to peak through the snow. As long as ever, the winter had not been as harsh as it had been in his first year. Being alone had affected his psyche in ways he was not sure he had completely recovered from. But this year had been different. Just as the spring brought life, his home continued to grow with him. Others had come to the Inlet, either to take shelter or to stay, and the stallion swelled with pride in them. The loyalty and closeness that had started to grow within the herd was nearly tangible. Though they were small, he did not worry about the strength of his herd.

The stallion hesitated on his path, hairy head dropping to the stream he had come across. Ice met the water that ran under it, creating a thin layer across the inch shallow water. Looking around to ensure no one was looking, the stallion let himself go. Raising onto his back legs he slammed his forehooves into the ice water with much of his might. There was a satisfying crunch and splash. With a rueful grin, he kept doing this for a few minutes, indulging briefly in a play he had never been able to enjoy as a boy.

PAGAN