Life in the Bay was wonderful. Life in general was wonderful. Zevulun had no complaints – he had a home, his family home, his sisters, and a beautiful mare he loved who’d given birth to his beautiful baby girl just last spring. Watching her grow up was one of his favorite things to do. It was captivating to watch her personality develop and see how she was both similar and different than he and Avalon.
Having the perfect life did not cure Zevulun’s wanderlust. A core part of his being (particularly during autumn), the cream and white stallion still took to the surf on occasion and swam for distant islands, visiting old friends and making new friends with his typical cheerful disposition. Today he’d decided to visit Crossing Isle. He was still searching for the mare Adelaide, with whom he’d shared a passionate tryst some time ago. It was just as likely their coupling hadn’t produced a child, but Zevulun wouldn’t rest until he was certain. The idea of not being a father to the foals he sired was downright ghastly and he wouldn’t stand for it. Every foal he sired would know their father… he was damn certain of it.
Crossing Isle was always a fun place to visit, as exotic and different from Tinuvel as the other inhabitable islands could be. The late autumn chill had settled into the land but was nothing compared to the cold he endured every autumn and winter on the most northern isle. Already Zevulun’s winter coat was thick and fluffy – too thick for the chill over Crossing Isle. He shook the saltwater from his body and began to walk, the brisk air cooling him as he went.
It was still early morning – he’d left the Bay before dawn broke over the horizon, thinking a morning visit to Crossing Isle would be favorable as he could still return home by mid-day. Because of this he expected not many horses to be milling about, especially in the morning chill they may be less accustomed to than he. Zevulun walked along, no set destination in mind, his ears swiveling as he listened to the noises of chirping birds and squirrels rustling among the fallen leaves.
And then he saw her. Zevulun stopped short at the sight of her with her nose in the air, soaking in the early morning rays of light which made the red of her coat glow bright. Such a beautiful contrast to the white draped in patterns over her body. She certainly was a rare beauty and Zevulun immediately counted himself lucky to have seen her this morning. He nickered a rumbling call from deep in his broad chest and started toward her, a welcoming, kind smile worn across his pale pink lips.
“Good morning,” he said, his blue eyes bright, “I didn’t expect to find any early bird’s up with me this morning. I’m Zevulun, I live in the Bay on Tinuvel.”
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