Autumn meant many things to Zevulun, but the two most important things were that it was his last season to explore before the waves of Tinuvel were too great to travel, and most mares were searching for a suitable mate to sire a new crop of foals come spring. This meant Zevulun spent much of his time away from Tinuvel and lingered on Crossing Isle instead. He would travel between the three main common grounds, searching for unoccupied horses to spend time with. Most of the time his eyes were roaming for single ladies (when were they not?), but Zevulun was an equal-opportunist and enjoyed making friends just as well… so, should he not find a mare willing to share her time with him, Zevulun would be just as happy finding a stallion to chat with and get to know.
That day was like many others in that Zevulun was grazing his fill of late-autumn grass on Crossing Isle, well-rested as he’d arrived on the island the evening before. His belly was swelled and full, his muscles developing thick under his cream and white coat. He was a handsome figure – barely a scrape on him – and with mixed bloodline it seemed the best features came together to create him. Zevulun knew this, much to the chagrin of his fellow lady friends, and he quite enjoyed prancing about on display for them when he caught their eye. The older he grew the more dashing he became, which was doing nothing to help curb his ego.
Moving freely through the trees, Zevulun wound around, making slowly for the area known collectively as The Meadow. If there was no company to be kept the food would at least be aplenty, even if a bit grazed down. He could use all he could eat; Tinuvel was already beginning to experience snowfalls cold enough to stick flakes to the ground for a few days before they melted away. Soon they wouldn’t melt.
Zevulun paused as he moved into the clearing, eyeing a large, thick-boned mare with a coat so black he imagined she’d disappear beneath a new moon. Excitement immediately blossomed inside him and the black of his pupils dilated, nearly eating away the soft, bright blue of his irises. Desire. Snorting, Zevulun flagged his tail and pawed at the ground, tossing his head and flipping the white strands of his mane from one side of the neck to the other. His hooved picked up and he moved toward her, but one might have considered it to be a dance the way he practically preened. Zevulun walked with purpose, arching his neck and bunching his muscles to show how well they’d developed the past year. So much stronger than he was when she’d first looked at him last year as a romantic partner… surely she’d look at him the very same this year, if not more appreciatively.
A charming grin stole his lips as his eyes flicked to hers. Respectfully Zevulun paused his steps though he wanted nothing more than to close their distance and put his lips against her skin again. Admiringly he glanced over her figure, slowly, truly enjoying it for every perfection that it was. Then, once he’d gotten around to looking at her face again, his smile grew.
“Well, hello again. Fancy seeing you here.”
He winked playfully.
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