Frey has been learning the trails that scarred the Lagoon. Old footpaths. So many abandoned paths. There were probably dozens of them, crossing through as much space as he could dream of. He was learning. The colt would continue to learn. A yearling that was left largely to his own devices, and to do as much of his own learning as possible. His brain was at its best now, so now was the best time to learn. Absolutely everything he could. Some days were better than others.
Winter was harder on the rest of the world than it was on the Lagoon. They, at least, had the dense cover of trees to keep them out of the wind. It was still humid, and maybe even a bit warmer than usual. Frey is thankful for that, but it leaves him thinking about those passing through the common areas. Would they be okay? There were clouds in the far off sky, and they looked… ominous. Frey would mobilize his concern.
He takes one of the trails that he’s been learning, one that would take him to the Falls without drawing too much attention… not that anyone would care, not that anyone would notice. His father had gone on vacation, taking his mother and his other consort. It was wild to Frey, conceptually, but he couldn’t be assed at this point. If they wanted to leave the yearling to his own devices, so be it. He would find something to do on his own.
From the Common, he crosses to the Falls. The Common was quiet, as it always seemed to be these days. Not much to report. Frey wouldn’t worry about that for now, and probably… well hell, he wouldn’t really worry about that until next year. His gait is easy, confident. It eats the ground under his feet. Frey would be massive, as evidenced from his sheer size now.
His gaze finds three stallions, ones that look similar even to the untrained eye. Similar markings, shaped the same, standing with a closeness that would only say they were comfortable in each other’s presence. They were grazing, coats not yet fully dry. Frey’s eyes flickered uncomfortably to the sky. It was getting darker.
Frey closes the gap, but his distance remains polite. “There’s a storm coming, do you guys have somewhere safe to go?” His voice is clear, boyish but strong. He’s comfortable in this place, and that rings clear in the way he stands. Not forceful, but concerned. Especially if they’d just washed up here, he couldn’t imagine they had a home yet. Getting caught up in a storm would be dangerous for them especially.
yearling. friesian x. 17.3Hh.
Tyr x Kvothe
|