The young colt had been to say the least. Ever since the mare who had come across him on his first day he had been determined to stay in this beautiful world, and therefore danced out of the way of many other horses he had come across, worried they might chase him away and back into the ocean. Winter storms had flashed through the skies of Paradise and would first send the colt skittering away from everyone and everything until he could find a cave for shelter. There, alone, he would watch the rain fall, eyes transfixed on the rivlets that fell from the emerald green foliage of the forests. As he watched, he could swear he could hear it as it rolled over the vibrant veins of the leaves. The illusions would be shattered by light or the trembling of the earth under his hooves and he would again be sent reeling. After he came to trust the storms would not hurt him in the depths of his remote caves, he came to enjoy these escapes and revel in the imagination that he knew what the light, the shaking, and the sights sounded like as the reverberated off the stone walls.

Spring started to rise on the horizon and the storms lessoned in their ferocity. Zeru missed the intensity, the more gentle morning rains creating a haze over his vision to mute everything around him. It changed the tone of the landscape and suddenly he needed to relearn how the sights of Paradise played out in front of his eyes. At last, when he felt a little more sure of himself, he decided to leave his cave and venture closer to where he knew the other horses to be, wondering if he would be able to be around the kind mare more, but knowing she was involved with the rest of the herd. He had been desperate for companionship before and had set out throughout the winter to find her a number of times. Success and failure had been mixed and typically ended in him fleeing and hiding, unable to understand most calls and him keeping a distance out of fear of misinterpreting something.

Now he walked with more confidence. Having spent the season regaining his strength and coming to his own, he was far more impressive than when he had first washed up on the shore. A year old and better fed, his body had started to fill out into the lean and muscular build he would eventually adopt. Thick tufts of hair had started to fall into his eyes and over his neck, even feathers along his legs started to grow to cover his hooves. No longer fighting for his life, his painted coat shined. Dark silver blue splashed over his mediteranean blue eyes, neck and shoulders to cover his back, leaving most of the rest of him a glittering white. Even in his growing confidence, he felt a flicker of fear as the scents of others started to grow stronger. This was the day he was going to try to step into what this herd might be.

At last he found the rest of the herd and stopped in his tracks, still sheltered by the shadows of the surrounding forests. A shiver of nervousness ran down his spine and the colt had to close his eyes to steady himself. Mustering up the courage he took his first steps into the open. A season of watching from a distance, he had seen stallions move in and out of the herd and had a general understanding of ‘manners’. Ears flicking uselessly, he tried to do what he thought was right and squealed a high pitched call into the air. Breathing heavy, he did not hear his own voice and panic struck him. Concerned whoever led here might not have heard him, or if the call had been wrong, he brayed again, possibly louder to announce he was there. Fighting the growing alarm in his body, he tried to relax his posture and keep his head low. He had seen others antagonize this herd, and that was the furthest from his intent. Still unsure, he dropped his head closer to his hooves and scraped nervously at the ground, watching and waiting to run at the first signs of aggression. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes, wishing and hoping with all his heart the kind mare could be there to help him.