Warmth has finally spread to the frigid Tinuvel. The snow in the lowlands melts away, sending the creeks and rivers rushing white and swollen through the Bay. Flowers bloom in the little meadows, the places where the trees do not cast such a heavy shadow, and in the open fields. The air is no longer silent beneath a blanket of snow, but alive with the cries of birds and insects and the rushing of rapid rivers.

Deep in the pine forest, though, it is still quiet. The sounds of fast-moving water only penetrates so far through the sap-covered grey trunks. Crickets chirp, and birds sing softly, far away in the tops of the trees.

Fell steps softly through the quiet of the woods, not wanting to disturb the peace as he passes through. He is a winter creature primarily, preferring his breath to come out in a steaming cloud, and the air to be thick with flakes of snow that dampen the sound, but he still enjoys the warm seasons. The foals of the Bay become giddy with the newly bare ground, tumbling over the soft pine needles and romping through the flowers, their play unhindered by the thick snow. Though Khoshekh is hardly a colt anymore, Fell still catches him on occasion playing with the younger foals in the meadows, or chasing Úna through the trees. Very rarely, he joins them, but never for long. Fell is anxious about hurting his children, and driving them away, although Úna at least never refuses a good play fight.

As he drifts quietly through the trees, thinking about nothing in particular, the shushing sound of hooves through pine needles ahead brings him to a halt. His hooked ears cup forward, and his velvet-black muzzle extends, nostrils flaring to try and scent whomever might be hiding just out of sight. It’s been a while since anyone has come calling on his shores looking for trouble, but his heart quickens all the same. He doubts this is a stranger, but better to be prepared. He lets out a soft, curious blow, trying to draw them out.

FELL

stallion. 16hh. black. marwari x. Rougaru x visurix.