• W • Y • R • I • N •
Ears flicking to the twittering of the birds up in the canopy, a bay roan equine - with multihued stripes in his mane and on his coat - rose his head. The two gray horn-like antlers that sprouted from just behind his ears rattled against a low-hanging branch, clashing briefly with the high, cheery chorus that echoed from the treetops. With a snort, the stallion shook his head free of the twigs and leaves, rattling against the bark once more, before his head was free of the plant trap. Rather than take his time admiring the scenery and taking time to warm his coat, Wyrin was on the move almost immediately. As a lone equine, he was an easier target for predators than if he were in a herd, despite the fact that those of his kind often towered over the wild cats.
I wonder what the residential herd is up to today anyway, he pondered as his hooves carried him over the fertile soil. As he traveled, Wyrin wove between trees; sometimes vegetation would brush up against his legs or would catch the fur on his legs or tail, but never hard enough to be more than a mild irritation. The stallion retraced a path he remembered from his last visit to the area despite how long ago his visit was. Finally the trees began to thin somewhat and the familiar sounds and scents of his own kind drifted toward the male. Slowly, Wyrin came to a stop and peered out at the cluster of equines grazing. He could see the lead stallion constantly scanning for danger. The lead mare grazed nearby - her stomach already beginning to swell from the foal within her. Scattered around the pair were others of varying ages, although no males were quite at the age of maturity - as could be seen in their still developing horns, more tufted manes, and in the small sprouts of fur growing on chins and legs.
The striped stallion watched almost wistfully as the herd interacted with one another between bouts of grazing. While he sometimes yearned for the company and companionship of a herd, Wyrin had always grown restless and had yet to settle down in a herd. It wasn't for lack of trying, though. He'd spent time in the company of two mares from different herds, growing close to them and eventually mating with them; nevertheless, despite his efforts he found he couldn't stay with them beyond the first few months after his foals' births. It was almost like a curse, his need to wander. While often he was content to be on his own, it was at times like these - when he could see those in the herds enjoying one another - that he felt alone. Ears folding back slightly, Wyrin sighed through his nose before he turned and wandered back into the noisy forest. With the herd at this back, the stallion lifted his head and trotted deeper into the clustered trees. Today he wouldn't let his lack of company affect him - he would enjoy the weather and relish in the peace while he still had it.
I wonder what the residential herd is up to today anyway, he pondered as his hooves carried him over the fertile soil. As he traveled, Wyrin wove between trees; sometimes vegetation would brush up against his legs or would catch the fur on his legs or tail, but never hard enough to be more than a mild irritation. The stallion retraced a path he remembered from his last visit to the area despite how long ago his visit was. Finally the trees began to thin somewhat and the familiar sounds and scents of his own kind drifted toward the male. Slowly, Wyrin came to a stop and peered out at the cluster of equines grazing. He could see the lead stallion constantly scanning for danger. The lead mare grazed nearby - her stomach already beginning to swell from the foal within her. Scattered around the pair were others of varying ages, although no males were quite at the age of maturity - as could be seen in their still developing horns, more tufted manes, and in the small sprouts of fur growing on chins and legs.
The striped stallion watched almost wistfully as the herd interacted with one another between bouts of grazing. While he sometimes yearned for the company and companionship of a herd, Wyrin had always grown restless and had yet to settle down in a herd. It wasn't for lack of trying, though. He'd spent time in the company of two mares from different herds, growing close to them and eventually mating with them; nevertheless, despite his efforts he found he couldn't stay with them beyond the first few months after his foals' births. It was almost like a curse, his need to wander. While often he was content to be on his own, it was at times like these - when he could see those in the herds enjoying one another - that he felt alone. Ears folding back slightly, Wyrin sighed through his nose before he turned and wandered back into the noisy forest. With the herd at this back, the stallion lifted his head and trotted deeper into the clustered trees. Today he wouldn't let his lack of company affect him - he would enjoy the weather and relish in the peace while he still had it.