Baldur wasn't really sure what had drawn him to the Meadow tonight. To be honest, he didn't really know why he did a lot of things lately. For so long the dappled stallion had purpose ― find his family. But the only family he'd ever known was dead and gone. His half-brother sat on the Inlet throne and Baldur, a grown man, was too scared to go to him. Too afraid of facing rejection from the only chance at a family he had left. A master of avoidance, he frittered away his days by wandering aimlessly 'round the Commons, hoping someone or something would distract him.
On this particular night it was the thunderstorm that rolled thick and heavy over the isle, drenching the crossing. As winter began to transition to spring, snow gave way to rain, and Baldur was eager for a change of season. When at last the storm passed, the sabino stepped forward from the trees and into the mist-filled opening. He cast his gaze to the sky, looking thoughtfully up at the stars as they faded in and out of existence behind the broken veil of clouds. A myriad of thoughts consumed him but he stayed alert; word of the rabid coyote attack a couple weeks back had spread like wildfire, and ever since he'd been overly wary.
So of course he didn't fail to notice the draft mare as she quietly materialized from the treeline to his left where it curved around the clearing. Briefly he turned to look at her. She was like a ghost under the spots of pale moonlight, and if he were a young foolish colt he might really think she was one. But he'd shed his notions about the paranormal long ago, and held no fear in his heart as he watched her from the corner of his eye. Likewise, the mare didn't seem frightened at all as she settled into her little patch of grass not too far from where he stood. Had she heard of the coyote? Should he tell her? he wondered, attention moving back to the stars as they disappeared slowly behind the inky silhouettes of the treetops.
A moment went by, then another, and then were was a voice calling out. It broke the stillness of the Meadow and reverberated through the frigid spring air. Baldur shifted his gaze towards the only possible source, who still lay but a few paces from him. She really was quite fearless, wasn't she? Laying in meadows in the dead of night, saying hello to random strangers. Baldur found himself admiring her spunk already.
"Hi there," he replied simply, pivoting his body so he could face her fully, but otherwise not moving from his spot. "What brings you out into the Meadow in the middle of the night?" he queried, ears perked forward and a curious tilt to his head. When he spoke again, there was amusement in his tone. "Not looking for trouble I hope."
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