Frey is confident, comfortable in his own skin. His gaze brilliant, mind moving just a little too fast. Too fast. Too much. God, he is so much. Frey doesn’t know how to describe it, but he’s so incredibly… lost within himself. A force of nature, and a force of something much darker. The storm inside his head was raging, and it would take time for him to learn how to calm it.
Time. He had plenty of time. Frey has too much time on his hands, in all reality. He’s become a bit lost in it, and maybe that’s not for the best. Maybe none of this was for the best. There’s a certain emptiness in his chest. Shit. Why was he so empty? Probably lonely. Lonesome. No heart to speak of.
Frey is unfocused as he enters the Meadow, adrift in his own thoughts. Spring had finally come, but at what cost? He almost misses the chill of the winter, the bitterness of the cold. All he’s got now is the bitterness of his own thoughts. The chill in his chest wasn’t something that could be chased off so easily. No, something different lives inside his chest now.
He moves over a rise in the Meadow, a soft call in his throat. The day was young, and the Lagoon’s latest grown son needed… he needed something. He needed anything. Maybe company would soothe the aching in his chest.
two. friesian x. sooty red roan. 17.3Hh.
Tyr x Kvothe
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