†
Compared to Atlantis, the Crossing is cold. Temblor strides through the rolling fields of the Meadow as he heads north, trusting the motion of his body to keep him warm as the cold air threatens to frost the water still beading his coat. It feels good to be able to stretch his legs, unimpeded, and he indulges in an easy gallop, relishing the rush of wind past his face. It is a novelty to run without having to duck his head under heavy, swaying vines or feel the constant brush of foliage across his body. Paradise is not a place for the claustrophobic. Not that he'd count himself among that number, but it is like a balm to his soul to be able to run in a place as open as this.
His eyes pass casually over the other horses congregated here. He recognizes none, and considers briefly stopping by the Commons on his return to see if he'll be as lucky as last time, but reigns his mind away from such prospects. Autumn is the season of temptation. Well does he know how fraught with emotion and hormones the Commons are the other three seasons of the year. Better, perhaps, to avoid it entirely this time.
Caught up in his thoughts, he doesn't see the yearling running headlong and careless until their paths are about to intersect. "Watch out!" Temblor cries even as he veers sharply to one side, wrenching his hip as he avoids colliding with the young colt. The dappled stallion trots in a wide circle, feeling a familiar twinge in his hip as he slows. Be damned. He loops around to face the would-be disaster and is startled to see the yearling is no longer alone, but backed by a dark mare who apologizes on his behalf. Temblor draws to a controlled halt before the pair. He tips his right hind reflexively, easing the weight on his limb and settling his weight forward. "No harm done," he replies in a mild voice, taking a moment to catch his breath. He tosses his pale head and adds, "Should've been paying more attention, myself. I'm visiting from Atlantis; you'd think I'd be more aware of my surroundings, not less, with such a generous vista," he chuckles, glancing briefly at the yearling. The corners of his eyes crease before his attentions sweeps in full to the mare, and the tension in his face relaxes. "I'm Temblor."
TEMBLOR
& swallows you whole
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