Meadow

It is a lazy spring afternoon. Kendry has spent too many nights wandering and his sleeplessness has finally caught up with him. The pale stallion lounges comfortably on the banks of a small stream, ears twitching to the rhythm of its trickle as it flows over a pebbled bed. His eyes are closed to the day and though he lies in the breezy shade of a mature oak the sun passes over his face each time the wind shifts the leafy canopy. He is tired. And he feels stuck.

Once again his life seems to lack aim, and Kendry wonders as he drowses if perhaps he has veered inadvertently from his rightful course. Was he wrong to have gone to the Thicket? Should he, from the outset, have attempted to claim a territory for his own rather than relying on the strength and skill of another while he prepared himself for responsibility? He can’t believe he was meant to stay in the Lagoon. And it had been a practical decision, he reassures himself, to find an established band and make a fit for himself there. It is not his fault Ruger moved homes. It is not his fault things became.... complicated after the painted stallion left.

Kendry sighs and opens his blue eyes. The sky above is beautiful today: big, soft clouds scud across it intermittently and cast their shadows across the rolling meadow. He wonders if Collision found Shenzi. How will they know where to find him, if he is no longer at the Thicket and the territory reigned by a stranger? He sighs again and hefts himself to his feet, a slow stand and stretch he finishes with a thorough shake to wake himself up. Fate has not yet steered him wrong. Kendry can’t just lay here and wait for something to happen, however. He must be an active participant in his life. He cocks one feathered hind hoof on its tip and stares across the burbling stream as he considers his next course of action.