Oswald had enjoyed the Ridge well enough, but in the last few months he and his mother had lived in the Prairie, he had come to love this place. His mother had told him countless stories of her childhood here and it’d always sounded rather fascinating to him. What he had not realized he would love the most about it was the wide, open spaces that were free from obstructions he might bump into or stumble over. There were sparse orchards and a few oak trees here and there, but for the most part it was rolling hills and open air, and Oswald loved it.
While he and his dam had not discussed whether they were staying here permanently, Oswald was beginning to think he might be. Even when his father was free of the Lagoon, if Oswald’s parents chose to return to Atlantis… he would find it very difficult to leave this place.
The hushed sound of hooves moving over the brittle grass made his ears twitch. Oswald turned his cheek in the direction, only just able to make out the shift of a shadow. Pairing that with the direction the footfalls were coming from, he managed to nicker softly in that direction, hoping to draw the attention of whoever it might be. He had not done as much socializing with the herd as he might have liked, but Oswald had always been a social creature.
He shuffled closer, stretching out his thick neck and sniffing with his pale pink nostrils flared wide to catch exactly where they were and who they were. The flowery perfume was recognizable enough; Oswald had noticed she always had it, no matter the season or time of day. He could not remember her name… but had his mother told her that she was one of his cousins?
“Hello-” he said, smiling slightly as he hovered near her (or so he hoped he was hovering near her face, trying to offer his muzzle to exchange a few courtesy breaths with her) Once he’d pulled his chin back, he asked, “Do you mind company this morning? I’m Oswald,” he introduced, “I believe we’re cousins.”
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