Post by ladyfey on Jan 15, 2011 16:30:16 GMT
The grullo stallion lifted his head, ears pricking forward. The sun was cold and unblinking, harsh shafts of light weaving a web around him. Snow layered the ground, frosty and biting with cold. Still quite young, Banjora broke into a trot, listening for wildlife or even humans. Growing ever more lonely, he longed for a herd of his own, from a mare to a bachelor herd, he didn't mind.
Arching his neck, he breathed in the cool air. Why am I always alone?
Arching his neck, he breathed in the cool air. Why am I always alone?