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Description

After an unfortunate slip, Colt encounters a herd of three mares who decided to join him on his winter wanderings.

Pose Reference by ElaineSeleneStock
Pose Reference by ElaineSeleneStock

Mare Reference by Colourize-Stock
Mare Reference by Ulvar-Stock

<< Previous < Colt's Story > Next >>

Cottonwood Valley, First Snow

Shadow Sky Sight looked down across the snowy plains, watching the loner pick his away across the empty space. From this distance she could tell little about him, but his gait was off and he did not look comfortable.

Clay Fieldstep bumped her rear end into Sky Sight’s shoulder, ears pinned.

“But he’s lonely,” Sky Sight sighed, refusing to look away as her herd mate attempted to scold her for admiring a bachelor. She wasn’t very experienced at judging horses at this distance, but he didn’t look bulky for the winter. Neither did they— a ragged group of three mares hardly counted as much.

“Don’t be making eyes at an unknown stallion,” Claystep snaps, “he’s most likely trouble.” The lead of the three kicks up snow with irritation in Sky’s direction as she uncovers plants to eat.

Saoirse, the weird mare, is obediently eating, but she has an ear and an eye out towards him, too. Two on one, then. But as much as Claystep pretended that she wasn’t interested, she wasn’t leading them away.

Sky heaved a bigger sigh, watching her breath billow up into the cloudless sky above. The stallion was moving parallel to them. With his head down. Odd. He was dark like stone and spotted with white. If he wasn’t moving he’d be hard to see, looking like a snow-covered rock.

“We could just say hello—”

“It’s not worth it—” Claystep starts.

“I think he’s limping?” The stormy mare offers, taking a sidestep away from Clay before the lead mare could whip her tail at her face.

“Near back side, yeah,” Sky agrees, lifting her head even higher to try and see the limp above a few inches of snow.

“Perfect. Exactly why we shouldn’t—”

The grey mare paws at the ground and shakes her mane out. “I appreciate the company and security, ladies, but really, I’m looking for a stallion and I doubt that one is gonna turn me away.”

Saoirse barely makes two strides before Claystep steps in front with a snap of teeth.

“Fine, fine! We’ll go look at the stupid sick stallion— if he is trouble I’ll kick his ass, then both of yours.”

“Sure thing, Steps,” Sky says, tossing her head. “Worse case, we’ll look at a cute stallion for a moment or two—”

“Sky, I will kick you down this slope if you don’t shut your mouth.”

Just across the open stretch of snowy landscape…

At least the cold is numbing his foot. Colt periodically swings his head to the side to eye the collection of cuts and scrapes on his back fetlock. It isn’t too serious— but damn, does it sting. Slipping on icy rocks hurt his pride equally. He just got here and already he is dealing with an injury.

The cold snowy winter is unusually to the young stallion, used to the milder seasons further down south. He sees little else but birds and some rabbits across this white expanse of land. No sign of horses, cattle, or even predators.

Mother Earth herself is still and silent. The young stallion has been traveling alone for some time, yes, but somehow this snow-blanketed valley is causing that loneliness to amplify into something more concerning. Is there something wrong with this land?

Colt looks back and sees he has managed to open the cuts again. Small red drops sink into the crisp top layer of snow. The stallion turns to lick at the injury, not at all pleased with his situation—

A sharp whinny brings his head up.

Three horses— mares, he smells— stand quite close to him, having approached quietly while the young stallion was lost in his own head. The front one, a ruddy orange with a wispy mane and hard gaze, stands before the other two, body blocking the way. Close behind and inching out is a dark mare with patches of white, a sky colored eye curiously looking him over. A gray and white mare is further behind, head low as she looks on.

Faced with three pairs of eyes and certainly unprepared for the attention, Colt lifts his head a little— not too much, the mare in front is not happy— and stops. He snorts, trying to be polite.

“Hello, ma’ams—” Colt tries—

The red mare in front grimaces. “He’s barely grown up—”

“Hello!” The black mare calls, cheerful and friendly. This causes the lead mare to lift her back leg at the friendly mare. She dances away before a scolding jab connects.

“Look at how scrawny he is—”

“And we’re not better off, Clay Fieldstep. What’s the harm?” The mare in the back has a lovely low voice, standing on solid feathered legs. Respectful of the lead mare, but confident in Colt’s space.

“Steps, come on—”

Colt tries to figure out what is going on between these mares, eyes darting between speakers as he gingerly lowers his back leg back into the snow. He doesn’t know whether he should be ashamed or offended by their one-sided chatter.

“Stay in line, Saoirse.” The lead mare snaps, which causes both the grey mare and the young stallion to start. “I’ll go.”

Colt pauses, swiveling his ears forwards as the front mare squares up to him and strides forward. Her irritation is palpable— Colt waits for her to reach out first before gently stretching his neck out to bring his nose closer to hers.

“Hello,” Colt murmurs, knowing this is the mare he’s got to impress. Somehow.

She turns her head to scrutiny him, sniffs and huffs, before snorting and stepping away. Whatever she was looking for, Colt passed for now.

“Heya, Spotty,” the dark mare greets, prancing forwards with eagerness in her step. She brings her nose right against his. She and Colt share breaths, whiskers tickling one another.

“Sky,” the prickly mare warns.

“Oh settle, he’s got manners.” Sky replies, remaining where she is as the last mare makes her way over.

“Hullo.” The quiet mare bumps her nose into Colt’s, quietly friendly where Sky is bold. Colt arches his neck, greeting her back. He hears the first mare’s tail swishing but she’s not trying to trample him yet.

“Where are you going, stranger?” Sky asks, daring to sniff along his shoulder and neck. Colt remains still and patient, watching her from the corner of his eye as the shy grey mare takes her time greeting him.

“Just wanderin’,” Colt admits. “I was heading to the lakes but all this snow has me turned around.”

Red rolls her eyes and scuffs a hoof. Just as she opens her mouth, Sky cuts in again.

“Mind if we herd up for a little while, then? For company. It’s pretty miserable out here if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

The offer is not unwelcome. Colt slowly blinks before returning a nuzzle from the shy mare. Sky is standing alongside him already, silently communicating with the lead. Who finally sighs with an edge of helplessness and stalks forward.

“Sure, but I’ll lead the way since you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Maybe Colt should feel challenged, but the young stallion is more mellow than most. He dips his head in agreement, happy to have companionship. Despite the red mare’s hostility, she seems more relaxed once the group of four starts off again, together.

“Your lead, ma’am.”

From the back, where Sky and the grey mare are following;

“Oh he’s so cute.”

DESCRIPTION TRACKER
Stallion ID: Colt #141
In response to: Lost (Colt)
Art features: Shadow Sky Sight , Clay Fieldstep , Saoirse
Story features: Shadow Sky Sight , Clay Fieldstep , Saoirse
Word Count: 1237

Healing: Colt i(1/2)
Pregnancy: Saoirse (1/3)
Rolls: Normal Rolls

Description

After an unfortunate slip, Colt encounters a herd of three mares who decided to join him on his winter wanderings.

Pose Reference by ElaineSeleneStock
Pose Reference by ElaineSeleneStock

Mare Reference by Colourize-Stock
Mare Reference by Ulvar-Stock

<< Previous < Colt's Story > Next >>

Cottonwood Valley, First Snow

Shadow Sky Sight looked down across the snowy plains, watching the loner pick his away across the empty space. From this distance she could tell little about him, but his gait was off and he did not look comfortable.

Clay Fieldstep bumped her rear end into Sky Sight’s shoulder, ears pinned.

“But he’s lonely,” Sky Sight sighed, refusing to look away as her herd mate attempted to scold her for admiring a bachelor. She wasn’t very experienced at judging horses at this distance, but he didn’t look bulky for the winter. Neither did they— a ragged group of three mares hardly counted as much.

“Don’t be making eyes at an unknown stallion,” Claystep snaps, “he’s most likely trouble.” The lead of the three kicks up snow with irritation in Sky’s direction as she uncovers plants to eat.

Saoirse, the weird mare, is obediently eating, but she has an ear and an eye out towards him, too. Two on one, then. But as much as Claystep pretended that she wasn’t interested, she wasn’t leading them away.

Sky heaved a bigger sigh, watching her breath billow up into the cloudless sky above. The stallion was moving parallel to them. With his head down. Odd. He was dark like stone and spotted with white. If he wasn’t moving he’d be hard to see, looking like a snow-covered rock.

“We could just say hello—”

“It’s not worth it—” Claystep starts.

“I think he’s limping?” The stormy mare offers, taking a sidestep away from Clay before the lead mare could whip her tail at her face.

“Near back side, yeah,” Sky agrees, lifting her head even higher to try and see the limp above a few inches of snow.

“Perfect. Exactly why we shouldn’t—”

The grey mare paws at the ground and shakes her mane out. “I appreciate the company and security, ladies, but really, I’m looking for a stallion and I doubt that one is gonna turn me away.”

Saoirse barely makes two strides before Claystep steps in front with a snap of teeth.

“Fine, fine! We’ll go look at the stupid sick stallion— if he is trouble I’ll kick his ass, then both of yours.”

“Sure thing, Steps,” Sky says, tossing her head. “Worse case, we’ll look at a cute stallion for a moment or two—”

“Sky, I will kick you down this slope if you don’t shut your mouth.”

Just across the open stretch of snowy landscape…

At least the cold is numbing his foot. Colt periodically swings his head to the side to eye the collection of cuts and scrapes on his back fetlock. It isn’t too serious— but damn, does it sting. Slipping on icy rocks hurt his pride equally. He just got here and already he is dealing with an injury.

The cold snowy winter is unusually to the young stallion, used to the milder seasons further down south. He sees little else but birds and some rabbits across this white expanse of land. No sign of horses, cattle, or even predators.

Mother Earth herself is still and silent. The young stallion has been traveling alone for some time, yes, but somehow this snow-blanketed valley is causing that loneliness to amplify into something more concerning. Is there something wrong with this land?

Colt looks back and sees he has managed to open the cuts again. Small red drops sink into the crisp top layer of snow. The stallion turns to lick at the injury, not at all pleased with his situation—

A sharp whinny brings his head up.

Three horses— mares, he smells— stand quite close to him, having approached quietly while the young stallion was lost in his own head. The front one, a ruddy orange with a wispy mane and hard gaze, stands before the other two, body blocking the way. Close behind and inching out is a dark mare with patches of white, a sky colored eye curiously looking him over. A gray and white mare is further behind, head low as she looks on.

Faced with three pairs of eyes and certainly unprepared for the attention, Colt lifts his head a little— not too much, the mare in front is not happy— and stops. He snorts, trying to be polite.

“Hello, ma’ams—” Colt tries—

The red mare in front grimaces. “He’s barely grown up—”

“Hello!” The black mare calls, cheerful and friendly. This causes the lead mare to lift her back leg at the friendly mare. She dances away before a scolding jab connects.

“Look at how scrawny he is—”

“And we’re not better off, Clay Fieldstep. What’s the harm?” The mare in the back has a lovely low voice, standing on solid feathered legs. Respectful of the lead mare, but confident in Colt’s space.

“Steps, come on—”

Colt tries to figure out what is going on between these mares, eyes darting between speakers as he gingerly lowers his back leg back into the snow. He doesn’t know whether he should be ashamed or offended by their one-sided chatter.

“Stay in line, Saoirse.” The lead mare snaps, which causes both the grey mare and the young stallion to start. “I’ll go.”

Colt pauses, swiveling his ears forwards as the front mare squares up to him and strides forward. Her irritation is palpable— Colt waits for her to reach out first before gently stretching his neck out to bring his nose closer to hers.

“Hello,” Colt murmurs, knowing this is the mare he’s got to impress. Somehow.

She turns her head to scrutiny him, sniffs and huffs, before snorting and stepping away. Whatever she was looking for, Colt passed for now.

“Heya, Spotty,” the dark mare greets, prancing forwards with eagerness in her step. She brings her nose right against his. She and Colt share breaths, whiskers tickling one another.

“Sky,” the prickly mare warns.

“Oh settle, he’s got manners.” Sky replies, remaining where she is as the last mare makes her way over.

“Hullo.” The quiet mare bumps her nose into Colt’s, quietly friendly where Sky is bold. Colt arches his neck, greeting her back. He hears the first mare’s tail swishing but she’s not trying to trample him yet.

“Where are you going, stranger?” Sky asks, daring to sniff along his shoulder and neck. Colt remains still and patient, watching her from the corner of his eye as the shy grey mare takes her time greeting him.

“Just wanderin’,” Colt admits. “I was heading to the lakes but all this snow has me turned around.”

Red rolls her eyes and scuffs a hoof. Just as she opens her mouth, Sky cuts in again.

“Mind if we herd up for a little while, then? For company. It’s pretty miserable out here if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

The offer is not unwelcome. Colt slowly blinks before returning a nuzzle from the shy mare. Sky is standing alongside him already, silently communicating with the lead. Who finally sighs with an edge of helplessness and stalks forward.

“Sure, but I’ll lead the way since you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Maybe Colt should feel challenged, but the young stallion is more mellow than most. He dips his head in agreement, happy to have companionship. Despite the red mare’s hostility, she seems more relaxed once the group of four starts off again, together.

“Your lead, ma’am.”

From the back, where Sky and the grey mare are following;

“Oh he’s so cute.”

DESCRIPTION TRACKER
Stallion ID: Colt #141
In response to: Lost (Colt)
Art features: Shadow Sky Sight , Clay Fieldstep , Saoirse
Story features: Shadow Sky Sight , Clay Fieldstep , Saoirse
Word Count: 1237

Healing: Colt i(1/2)
Pregnancy: Saoirse (1/3)
Rolls: Normal Rolls