he can’t shake the feeling of cowardice, of failure, as he slips from the water up onto the banks of the crossing. he couldn’t say he hadn’t tried, exactly… how many times had he approached a pretty mare since he had been here? and yet how many had he convinced to come make a home with him? to be fair, he hadn’t actually ever issued an invitation…he hadn’t ever been brave enough to be so forward.. but it still feels as if he had laid himself out and gained nothing in return. the kladruby makes his way despondently to the meadow, large head hung low. he has abandoned his post on salem, driven away by loneliness and the heat. he had an easy friendship with roheryn, though they hadn’t truly grown close. not close enough to have cause to stay at least. despite his gloom, the sun shines brightly down. though he tries not to think of the vlast his mind is uncontrollable sometimes. the ink black stallion's gentle eyes are dark, nearly unseeing as he inwardly pictures what his life would have been like… he would have been paired by then, with probably a colt or two on the ground he would even… he wouldn’t be alone. the rumbling in his stomach distracts him from his melancholy for a moment at least, and he is grateful for the lush meadow surrounding him. he doesn’t even glance up, doesn’t even feel the desire to try and socialize any more. he is too strange looking, with his curved face and tall stature. after all his traveling and all the years he has spent training himself not to think of the vlast, he still cannot stop his heart from yearning for home. c
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