Zevulun walked through the Prairie with the green spring grasses brushing his legs and the perfume of wildflowers that blanketed the hills almost making him dizzy with how strong it was. The Prairie was not as rugged as the Bay, nor as difficult to survive in, but he had grown to love it even more than the home he’d been born in. Every season had a bounty, even when the snow fell a few brief months through the winter, it was never difficult to dig up and find something sustainable underneath it. However, Zevulun felt spring was its most beautiful.

The way the hillsides became streaks of colors was always a sight to behold, and the creatures they shared the Prairie with all came bursting to life, too. There were always foals playing among the hills the more and more they got more confident on their legs. Often, by this time, the Prairie was filled to the brim with the giggles of young children and, with them, the deep laugh of Zevulun himself as he played alongside them.

But there were less children this year. Zevulun thought he wouldn’t mind it, but he felt far more saddened this season than he’d expected to. So, today, rather than romping along with a gaggle of younglings, the Prairie lead walked quietly through his territory. Until the breeze brought with it a far sweeter perfume than all the flowers in bloom, and Zevulun’s body immediately cheated toward it before he’d come to fully realize it. Like a magnet pulled, it was his heart that led him (always) to walk through the grasses until he came upon the sight of one of his beloved's resting in the shade of a tree.

Zevulun drew to a halt while he was still some ways from her and smiled, watching Freya while she slept so peacefully. He could see the age on her, just as he imagined she must see the age on him, but to Zevulun there was always a part of Freya who would look like the independent, strong mare he had met in the Bay all those years ago. His smile deepened as he remembered that day fondly, as he often did, and how impressed he had been by her.

He still was; Freya would always have Zevulun’s utmost respect and he was honored that he ever was allowed to have any of her heart.

He rumbled a soft nicker toward her, hoping to rouse her gently as he dropped his head and walked toward her. If she hadn’t stirred yet, he nickered gently at her again as he grew closer, then stopped and slowly reached out to lay a loving kiss against her cheek.