No guts, No glory
Exhilaration flooded every nerve ending the young stallion had, leaving him feeling a bit like a live wire, energy sparking from each strike of his hooves against the crisp autumn grass, static bristling over his coat each time the wind brushed against the damp hairs. In reality, there is little reason for him to be so amped up. The little spit of the ruins he had claimed for himself had been all but abandoned, though it bore the stink of recent occupation. Claiming it hadn't even required a battle, just a lifting of his aristocratic head and a bugle.
But he was electrified, nonetheless.
Eagerness sped him on his immediate journey to the Commons at a pace that left him winded on arrival and he took his time meandering along the border while he looked for the right mare. He hadn't realized he was picky at all until his gaze slid over the first three mares he found without feeling any sort of spark for them. With each mare he passed up, a little more of his enthusiasm dimmed until his lips were pulled to a frown rather than an easy grin. Theo had always assumed that gathering the herd was easiest part of
having a herd, but he found himself unwilling to make the wrong decision.
What if he didn't like the mare he claimed? What if she didn't like him? It would be a waste of time to bring her all the way back to the Ruins just to realize she sucked.
And so the pintaloosa kept on his search, scrutinizing mare after mare until he was properly grumpy with himself, the world, and the situation.
The sudden sound of a nicker draws his attention and his bright eyes rise, sweep across the open meadow and then lock onto what has to be the prettiest dang mare he has ever seen in his whole life. She is radiant somehow, her vibrant red coat offset by markings of pure white and a tail that flutters invitingly in the breeze. In an instant, his grumpiness was immediately forgotten as he watched her dance with an elegance that stuck him dumb, her pretty little face lifted in invitation.
Despite a desperate desire to make a good impression, Theo first trips over himself in his haste to answer and reach her. Stumbling like a foolish newborn foal, the pintaloosa regains his footing and keeps on moving, his own dark tail lifted to match hers, and his neck bowed dramatically as he lopes closer, doing his best to appear handsome enough to court her while also frantically searching his mind for something clever and debonair enough to win her back to the Ruins.
When he finally reaches her, the grin that spreads across his lips is wholly genuine.
"I've been waiting all my life to meet someone like you," he speaks finally, the playful, flirtatious words mildly rushed in his eagerness to get them out. And while he has - adamantly - been cautioned against being so cheesy by his well-meaning father, Theo firmly disagreed with Rehoboam's thinking. Sure, she might cringe at him, but she also might laugh... and he very much wanted to know if her laugh was as beautiful as her face.
"Can I have your name, miss? I'm Theseus." He settled slightly then, his gaze trailing across her face and then back to her eyes, and then to her ears, and then to her eyes. Each time he found her gaze again, his smile would broaden once more, and though she might not feel the same - he swore he could see the lightning sparking between them.
no legend, no story