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KENREN
ADMIN
CAVALLO
ADMIN
STAFFER NAME
POSITION
STAFFER NAME
POSITION
the world
Season: Summer Year: One
Major Weather: The summer is starting to show signs of being one of the worst yet, with temperatures already climbing and the water beginning to dry up in the furthest reaches of the South.
There was always something about the ocean that mystified Aryel. She had been born far inland, hailing from a bloodline whose lineage could be traced back to frigid, prehistoric steppes miles away from any large body of water. And yet, here atop the cliffs with the sun on her withers and the wind curling its fingers in her bristly forelock, she felt as if she could stand and watch the waves roll in for hours. It was almost something primal, she eventually decided, a sort of inexorable call back to an unknown origin. It was just so ancient--the sea had been there forever, and it would remain long after her bones were dust. Perhaps life had once come from the ocean, she mused. Maybe that would explain why one sometimes felt a tug to return to it.
Of course, Aryel was not an overly-philosophical sort. A creature of instinct and sinew, she could appreciate the beauty of nature surrounding her, and at times might even wonder about where it all had come from, but she was not the type to dwell upon it for hours. Not when there was grazing to be done and sun to be soaked up. The stocky mare tossed her head, flicked her tail across her flank to chase away a particularly-annoying fly, and, after a cursory look around, lowered her skull and resumed nibbling at the short, salty grass that carpeted the clifftops. She felt reasonably safe up here, given its openness. A puma or other predator would have an extremely difficult time sneaking up on her with virtually no cover. As a lone mare, she rarely got a chance to truly lower her guard and relax, but staying paranoid her entire life would likely drive her mad--peaceful moments like this were always appreciated.
It had been an uneventful month. At first, Centurion had wondered what the point was. Wander over here, wander over there. See a mountain, see them all. The pattern of his existence at this moment all seemed so…dull. He hated it. He missed the thrill, missed the excitement. During the years spent with Levi, there was little time for boredom. He had learned many things and done many things. Most of which he didn’t realize he was quite capable of, let alone actually enjoy. But he did, and now he missed it.
For some time he had simply wandered. Traversing great seas of grass, occasionally passing through sparse woods before plunging again into the endless plains. He was in no hurry. A few days ago, he had passed through the mountains. He had been following their visage for weeks now and was glad to have finally left them behind. Centurion had first turned toward the mountains on a whim. Though as he had drawn nearer, the strong odor of horse filled his nostrils and he wondered if it was more than just coincidence.
The near black stallion now found himself moving through the long thin grasses atop a cliffside. The sun was high in the sky and bearing down on him as he walked. He knew he was sweating. A slight wind from the sea, bringing merciful relief and a spectrum of aromas from around him. His nostrils flared with each breath, taking in every scent that teased his snout. The salty tang from the water, the briny grass that brushed his chest and shoulders, and the inescapable fragrance of other equines.
Though his walk was almost leisurely, his ears were pricked and alert. Centurion knew he was probably being paranoid, but he had been through too much not to be. Besides, he was in an entirely new territory. Occupied new territory. He knew better than to get careless. His eyes shifted left and right every fourth step. There was no cover, and his dark coat was glaringly obvious against the pale blades.
His gait slowed and he stopped. Centurion turned his muzzle skyward, inhaling deeply. Just ahead he could smell it. A mare. Lovely. Should he ignore her and move on? The stallion pondered this thought for but a moment before deciding against it. He had just been bemoaning his lack of purpose, and here, dropped in his lap was an opportunity. He moved forward. The grass parted before him, its height diminishing as he approached the edge of the cliffside.
He approached quietly and downwind. A habit so ingrained it required little to no thought. He spotted her easily. She was a dusty blue, patterned with white feet and a stark ivory blaze on her face. Small in stature and almost lazily eating the short foliage. He watched her for a moment, lips moving in a silent debate. Should he simply move on, or would she be worth his while? After a pause, the corners of his lips twisted into a smirk. Perhaps she would prove entertaining at the least. His voice rumbled, billowing up from his chest in a deep, burly thunder.
