the meadow had turned into his refuge as of late. It was calming in some ways; the nonchalant passing of mares and foals, the hushed conversations between lovers, the sweet smell of grass wafting through the crisp fall air. It was a beautiful season. The leaves were beginning to turn golds and reds and browns, transforming the landscape into something straight out of a bob ross painting.
He didn’t dwell much on finding a woman to warm him for the night, although the idea was extremely appealing. Don’t get him wrong; he had his own needs, of course, but he was not determined to make it an every night ordeal. The prospect of possibly becoming a father was as daunting as it was (hopefully) unlikely. There had been only one mishap so far, and even then he could not say he regretted meeting her. He couldn’t even say he regretted meeting dredge, as obstinate as she is. Though there was something enchanting about a pretty woman telling you to drown yourself.
But there was always more trouble to get into at the meadow.
That was why he was here, wasn’t it? To find himself some more trouble.
This time it took the shape of a beautiful woman, resting amongst the grass and going about her business eating her dinner. On his way over however, he had failed to see the small dappled pony standing in his way and bumped right into him as he backpedaled away from the black and white lady.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry, pony boy?"
"...speech"
six years. georgian grande mutt. silver grullo pintaloosa. seventeen hands. of nowhere.