The last few months in the forest have been a time of high tension. Persephone had returned from her period of captivity on the distant island of Tinuvel, yet her time away had sparked something in the forest herd - especially his mother - and Han sensed that the wheels of something were in motion. Persephone and his mother were closer than ever, always having weighty discussions to which he was not invited, and now it seemed Shamwari, their neighbor, was involved as well. Han had spied the red stallion from afar one day, and had been frozen with fear and awe. Now that was the perfect example of stallion if he’d ever seen one: well-built, muscular, confident, and littered with scars from past battles.
It had only served to remind Han of everything he is not.
Han is three years old now, and is slowly growing out of lanky adolescence. Dark dapples are slowly swallowing the gold of his coat. Yet he still feels half a child, and the atmosphere of the forest does not help. Every day, he senses that he is being left out of things, as if he is not mature enough to understand. Everyone these days seems to be sparring, too, as if they had formed some secret club he is not a part of. Han, of course, has no interest in sparring - the very thought terrifies him - but seeing everyone around him testing their physical prowess is enough to give him that tell-tale prickle at the back of his mind. The Veil is threatening to swallow him again. So far Han has resisted, but it is only a matter of time before he cannot help but succumb to it, if things in the forest continue to escalate.
It’s a warm spring day when Han stumbles back into the meadow in which he had met Primrose and Roheryn months and months ago. His mother and his cousin Tarek - another fine specimen of a stallion that Han has avoided like the plague - were sparring and Han had fled to the edge of the forest where he would not have to watch or hear the tussle. To his surprise, however, he is not alone. As if he is reliving that day all over again, there is Primrose, right where she was before: and this time, thankfully alone. It is most definitely not the same day, of course, and evidence of this is how different Primrose looks. She is a year or so his senior, and so she has filled out even more into the body of a mature mare than if she were exactly his age. She suddenly seems ancient to him, and Han reflects on the fact that other stallions would find the way she looks attractive. So why doesn’t he?
Han watches her for a few moments as he works up his courage. Then, swallowing against the lump in his throat, he approaches her. “You’re back,” he says simply, regarding her with shyness in his dark eyes.
3; mutt; sooty buckskin; 16.2hh
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