Summer had nearly come and gone, the warm weather and rich foliage giving way to the crispness of autumn. Time had slipped by unusually fast this year, or so Mikhail thought. It was hard to gauge time properly when one had no way to see its passing, but after more than a decade on this earth he'd becomes finely attuned to its passing. Somehow, it felt as if it were going quicker this year. Like the clock had been sped up, and Mikhail was helpless to do anything about it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a dismaying thought had planted itself, one he still refused to acknowledge was taking root:
how much time was left for him?
Willfully ignorant of his burgeoning twilight years, Mikhail chose to fritter away his days as if nothing would ever change. He spent most of his time in the Meadow these days, content to graze and listen as the foals romped. This evening he found himself near the edge of the vast field, head lowered to graze and warm sunlight bathing over his back. It was getting close to nighttime and the last of the crickets were beginning to chirp, their lively summer tune winding down to a slow melody with the dropping temperatures. The cold had begun to kill off most of the insects but some persistent ones bite and nip at his skin still. They were his only company in this part of the Meadow. Them, and the gentle murmur of the sea.
But then, suddenly, he wasn't quite as alone. There was a distant, rhythmic thudding that grew steadily more intense. Someone was coming towards him, he realized as he chewed around a particularly large mouthful of grass. One lazy ear flicked towards the sound but it was the only acknowledgement he gave. the painted stallion didn't raise his near or bother to move from his spot. He didn't step to the side or back to allow easy passage. Why, he thinks, should he? There was a whole Meadow's worth of space to walk around him. Besides, he was blind - if there were any advantages that being defected had afforded him in this life it was these small things - like not moving out of the way when someone was walking toward him, no matter how inconvenient his placement.
And then the someone coming toward him collided quite firmly with his shoulder, sending him stumbling to the side. Mikhail righted himself easily, a surprised grunt torn from his lips.
"Hey!" He snapped gruffly. His dark head snaked out, teeth bared and aiming at whoever it was that had so rudely walked right into him. Though his teeth clicked on thin air he swore he felt the whisper of fur across his lips. Maybe it was his own imagination, but it was enough to make him feel satisfied that his message had gotten across. Milky eyes looked where he believed the other to be, a sour expression set on his face and his ears laid flat in the forest of his mane.
"Don't you know it's rude to run into blind folks? Or are you blind yourself?" He meant it as a sarcastic comment, an insult more than anything, but it seemed he was in for quite a surprise.
who knows upon what soil they fed
their hungry thirsty roots?
fifteen. georgian grande mutt. bay tobiano
of nowhere. blind. felony x zhenya. pippa.