Meadow

A shudder danced across his copper and white splotched skin, the kind that started at his shoulders and ran down the length of his spine before causing his two-toned tail to lash out in a manner that had nothing to do with flies. That was one blessing of winter, it drove away all manner of annoying pests, and he wasn’t just using that term to classify insects. There was little that could slow the hustle and bustle that was so integral to what the common areas were, and he had found that the steady stream of bodies was no different now that it had been all those years ago when he had traversed them. Once he had reveled in it, enjoyed the bonds and connections that could be so quickly formed here, but even if the lands itself had not changed the brute had. As was his way now he did not often stray far from the shelter he had carved out for himself, little more than a copse of trees and a ledge sprouting from the cliffs that the trademark Falls used in their tumultuous path. Even the bare branches overhead did a decent job of keeping him relatively free of snow and the rocky wall at his back cut the wind down to bearable levels. It was lucky for him that he was built for such weather, his thick skin and now shaggier than normal hair kept him just shy of comfortable even if he looked every bit the haggard vagabond he was.

If there was one thing that could keep the lands inhabitants away, however, it was the weather. The commons were subject to the typical seasons more than most of the islands; it was not uncommon for the climate to turn harsh with little indication and it had taken him by surprise more than once. After a few times, not twice despite what the proverb might suggest, he had learned to read the signs and after a few more times he even started to listen to them. He had been on his own long enough to know that recklessness was more likely to lead to a cold death than anything else, his days of chasing excitement and danger were long behind him.

As he was standing near the edge of the clearing, his heavy hooves pawing near the base of a tree to find what sparse grass and roots he could pull up to grind upon his teeth, movement caught his attention. Movement, while not uncommon in the area of course, was no means for surprise but today even his old bones could tell a storm was brewing and most of the usual crowd had cleared out quickly. His emerald eyes turned towards the nearly dancing figure that had emerged into the meadow, unable to suppress the quirking of his lips upwards in as near a smile as he could manage these days despite his instincts whispering a nagging reminder that she should not be out here, and especially not alone. Yet he was so caught up in the joy of her movements before she settled to peruse the tempting dry grasses that the tumultuous winds had disturbed. Another chill ran over his body and he drug his gaze upwards to glimpse the dark clouds beginning to swirl with alarming rapidity overhead.

Focusing back on the girl his brows furrowed, waiting in frustrated torment as he waited for her to notice. The moments ticked by, he the silent watcher and she the blissfully unaware innocent as he continued to remind himself just why it was not his job to save her, how that never worked out well for anyone in the end. Yet as the wind picked up, grabbing at the tousled strands of his mane and whipping them around his face he knew that time was quickly running out, and with a heavy sigh and much internal cursing of his twice-damned bleeding heart he slowly trudged out from his quiet post. He was deliberate in making as much noise as possible, he knew the face of someone lost in introspection well and he didn’t want to startle her unintentionally. It was a mistake he’d made more than once with compliments to his size and overall stature, and despite his heavy plodding steps he made sure to clear his scratchy throat rather loudly before he stopped at a comfortable distance. “It a’int safe to be standing square in the middle of a field with this weather brewin’.” Despite his attempt at being gentile, his voice was always anything but; loud and heavy as it hung on to the vowels of the words he drawled longer than most. “You best be gettin’ back somewhere safe.” Surely she had somewhere to go, most of his kind were quick to find security in others and being pretty and young as she was he didn’t doubt many doors would be shut to her. Despite his own issue with such a life he didn’t fault anyone else for reveling in such security and for them he prayed it lasted.