<:> Freai <:>
Freai ran through the forest full speed darting between trees, he couldn't feel his legs anymore, all he knew is they were moving, he took a deep breath of air, he was breathing heavily, he was getting closer to his target, he knew they would hear him traveling at this speed, he stopped abruptly, sliding into a patch of dirt, he shook the dirt off his legs and took another whiff of the air, the scent was closer. Freai took a few well calculated steps, making sure not to step on any leaves or twigs less he alert his target. He drew his bow, holding the arrow between his teeth he continued forward cautiously, being careful to be silent, he controlled his breathing though it was hard, he hid himself behind a large tree, trying not to be seen. Suddenly, the scent was gone. Freai felt a rush of emotions. He stomped his hoof on the ground in anger, his eyes darting back and forth he looked for any signs of a horse, "
I'm going insane in this forest" he said to himself looking around once more, unable to see or smell his target, he let out an annoyed whinny "
This can't be happening." he thought to himself, he let out a growl like sigh and furrowed his brow, confused by it all, he had forgotten about the mare and stallion from before entirely, he was immersed in his thoughts and found no loophole out of them "
If I fail to be the hunter, I will become the hunted, I don't want to have to constantly look over my shoulder, knowing there's someone out there, that I failed." he scolded himself intently, annoyed, he felt the urge to continue, he picked up a trot, no longer calculating his steps, he stood still in what was the center of his vision, he turned himself in every direction, searching for the faintest of scents, when he caught it, he threw his bow over his shoulder and took off, galloping full speed once more, though he was thirsty, tired, and quite annoyed, he continued on his journey, "
You never know when to quit do you Freai" he said to himself as his body darted through trees at what felt like eighty miles an hour, he was free, the wind in his mane he felt happy, though he was alone, he had the woodland creatures, that was enough for him. He never truly loved, or really even liked anyone, he was easily agitated, not the prime candidate for a "bestie" truth was, he had never had a friend before, he didn't really know what one was, how it felt to know someone had your back, he longed for
that feeling, but there was always his mother's voice in his head "
To love is to be weak. You will be exploited, turned down and rejected. Love isn't all its cracked up to be son. You will learn that, easily, or not." He knew how much his mother loved him, though she could be cold at times, she only wanted what was best. There would always be fear, always be doubts, and there would
always be the voices telling him what he already knew could never be.