Common

Masamune had not been quite ready to return to the Thicket. It was only the storm that brought him crawling back up on the shore of his youth, desperate and seeking his father. Had Sephiroth not been injured, he might have continued his life of adventure and seeking his next story. He had missed his father, as they'd been the best of friends, but the unspoken expectation that he might one day hold the Thicket himself had been a heavy burden. Sephiroth had never quite said it out loud, heir, but there was no doubt in Masamune's head where his father's was at. When he had been young, Sephiroth had taken him along on patrols and he had even accompanied him to meetings with other herd leaders. Masamune could not deny the idea was an intriguing one. For the future. Sephiroth's injury, though not life-threatening, had Masa reconsidering his time away and he'd accepted his father's offer of a sub-lead position. The herd seemed fine enough, but with his mother's return as well, remaining close by to serve as another guardian seemed like a good one.

That didn't mean he couldn't slip away.

Though he'd taken on an official title, as small as it was, Masamune didn't actually have a herd or any such responsibilities, at least not yet. He'd spent some time on the crossing, enjoying the sweet Meadow grass and swimming beneath the Falls. He had avoided the Commons, for a time, though now seemed a good a time as any. It was far more quiet than he had originally though and fell into a comfortable gait as he leisurely walked through the grass.

There were flowers dotted across the greenery, it made him think of the Prairie. Though he had not spent any sort of time there, he had been curious enough about Zevulun's territory that he had gotten a look for himself upon his return. He lowered his head, whickering with interest and watching the petals shift beneath his breath. They were sweet, in a different way than the grass of the Meadows. His infatuation with his new find left him fairly oblivious to the world around him, luckily his father was not there to see him.

"Oh!" His own head shoots up at the sound, ears flipping out to the side making him look more donkey than horse. His tail snaps to attention, like a flag, and his nostrils quiver with a snort. His heart rate thrums, a hummingbird against his chest, and he takes a deep breath steadying it. His own surprise evolves to embarrassment and the pale stallion gives a sheepish, if not slightly crooked, smile. "Sorry," he dips his head slightly, shaking his forelock away from his green eyes. "I didn't mean to startle you. My name is Masamune," he furrows his brow, slightly unsure, "of the Thicket." He'd never been the best at introductions, especially not when it involved a pretty girl.