cinnamon

At his old home on the mainland, Cinnamon had been relatively carefree and had not developed anxiety until the incident with his herd. After that, he wouldn’t even classify it as anxiety, really; more like post-traumatic stress disorder. Since coming to the Islands, however, he had developed a new kind of anxiety. It wasn’t entirely bad; he worried about Zharko a lot of the time, and Liland’s disappearance brought back some unsavory memories and made him worry about Zharko even more. Still, he preferred this type of worrying over the kind he had come from. It was a protective kind of worrying, rather than the fearful kind, and ultimately it just meant he had people to care about again. Though the anxiety caused him mild discomfort when he could not distract himself from it, he was grateful to have come here, and he did not want to leave.

Still, he was lonely a lot of the time. Zharko was growing up and there wasn’t much Cinnamon could do to help him in his search for his brother. Goose was friendly but a leader, and had leader things to do a lot of the time. Cinnamon suspected he also just appreciated the quiet. The red stallion could appreciate the quiet as well sometimes; the Bay was peaceful, and it felt safe, but ultimately Cinn was a social butterfly and he missed the company of others much of the time. This, too, was a new feeling. After losing his family, Cinnamon had isolated himself and traveled exclusively alone, avoiding others at all costs. It had just hurt too much to interact with anyone, and the red stallion had believed it would take a very long time (if it ever happened) to feel like he was ready to keep up a conversation, let alone become friends with, anyone else.

So he was surprised when loneliness tugged at him in Zharko’s absence. Cinnamon explored the Bay most of the time, but at this point he had seen all of it; he knew the place by heart, all of the trails and streams and good grazing spots. He had even found a lovely meadow of wildflowers he kept coming back to. It was where he usually bedded down for the night, and it was where he dozed now, enjoying a patch of sun shining through the trees and dappling the hidden garden around him. He was, for the most part, completely relaxed, until a friendly voice sang out close by and his drooping ears flicked up again.

He did not recognize the voice, but he recognized the scent when Gloriosiah stepped into view. He hadn’t actually seen her before, but he knew vaguely who she was, and he winnied warmly back at her as she approached. He accepted her outstretched muzzle with his own, exchanging scents in a sleepy greeting. "Pleasure to meet ya," he said, dipping his head respectfully. "I’m Cinnamon. I believe we’re in a pretty similar situation, actually, heh. I was here under Liland as well, and Goose kindly let me stay." He smiled, his dark eyes twinkling with a friendly mischief. "Turns out, I’m a bit of a social butterfly myself. Thanks for sayin’ hi. You’re welcome to hang out here anytime, I’ve found this little meadow to be a favorite spot. Been spendin’ quite a bit o’ time napping in the sun, and I must say I highly recommend it."

He reached down to nab a few bites of grass as if to prove how nice of a spot it was. Of course, he knew he did not own the little meadow, and had no right to either welcome or banish another inhabitant of the Bay, but he thought it was a nice gesture in case she was worried about leaving him alone or giving him space. Sure, everyone needed space sometimes, but if Cinn wasn’t in the mood to socialize he could always go somewhere else. It just didn’t feel right to hide the colorful, fragrant meadow from others, especially when they were as friendly as Glory.

stallion // 16hh // EE A+a nSty // of the Bay

she marks her fingerprints
in my skin
i breathe her perfume in
and it burns like heroin
now she's in me
and i can't let her go