Meadow

Solomon

Long months had passed since Solomon had last stepped foot upon the Crossing aisle, and spring had quietly faded into summer. Already the heat of the season promised a sweltering fall and he was once again glad that he had made his home on Tinuvel, the coolest of the Lost Isles.

Coming here was unexpectedly bittersweet. When he had last sauntered across these lands it was in search of his lost herd members; it had been in vain, largely, as none of his disappeared family had resurfaced. Not only had both mares and stallions been lost, but so had some of his upcoming children, a loss that he took far more personally than he often showed. Solomon had expected the Cove to be positively bustling with the sound of his children's laughter, and this had not come to pass.

Forcing himself not to dwell on these losses, Solomon had finally made the decision to venture out again. It had been far too long since he had wandered across the lands, and he needed to feel like himself once again. Thus, the water slicked tobiano hauled himself free of the ocean and paced along the beaches of the Meadow. It was drastically quieter here than it had been in Spring, but that was to be expected. His herd was not the only one to experience dramatic loss and he supposed that those in the Crossing were not exempt either.

Still, it is not long before his emerald gaze focuses on the painted mare with curiosity. She was a pretty thing, sporting the golden color he was so partial to interspersed with white like himself. It was evident from the flaking salt on her coat that she was fresh from some sort of swim, and from the way she relished the taste of the summer grass as though she hadn't had a good meal in ages, he'd wager that she was new to the Isles in general. He watched for a long moment before deciding to approach, surprised that no one else was taking advantage of her solitude.

"They call these lands the Lost Isles." Solomon replies to her question as he approaches, having faintly caught it from a distance as he had begun his approach. Lazily he flicks the dark strands of his tail across his haunches before halting within comfortable speaking distance. A grin winds onto his lips as he bobs his head in greeting, and he resists the urge to trace the lines of her figure with his eyes.

"You should taste the grass in the Cove. It's always better where there's not as much traffic." A playful twist of his lips accompanies the comment, the admiration evident in his tone. "Although I'm sure a pretty mare like you gets your choice of grass no matter where you go."

Casually he lets his glance drift away from her to check their surroundings, but is quick to return it to her. It has been far too long since he has allowed himself to relax and flirt with a pretty girl, and before long fall would come and complicate the simple pleasures of life.

"Just got here, I take it?" He offers with a casual tilt of his hip and a knowing glance at the salt that lingered on her body. Given enough leash and he'd gladly offer to remove it for her.

Dutch Harness Horse Mutt | Champagne Grullo Tobiano Stallion | 17 Hands | The Cove