Roland tipped his head back to look at Arah as she joined him in the water, hooves crunching against the pebbles and soft sand that lined the bottom of the stream. The tugging current lessened around his limbs as her body blocked the water’s pressure, giving him a chance to relax. Arah’s hair fanned impressively across the rippling surface of the brook, and Roland silently wondered how she kept it so clean and untangled. When she moved closer, a look of concentration on her face, the stallion tipped his chin and moved his head to the side, exposing the wound to her. The skin stretched painfully around the bite marks, causing him to wince slightly, but he expertly hid the pain so as to keep the mare calm, as she was clearly out of her element.

He flinched away as Arah began to splash cold water onto his golden skin, velvety muzzle brushing against his neck fleetingly as the dried blood of last night’s events washed away. Roland hoped the unpleasant memory of his attack would follow the scarlet trail and no longer plague his mind; he wasn’t sure whether to feel confusion or embarrassment towards the calamity, but the wound wasn’t one he would wear proudly. Water trickled noisily from his chest back into the stream, but it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling with the sun shining warmly on his back. Looking out across the meadow, he allowed his mind to wander in the peaceful silence.

Standing there, he realized how much he missed the sun when he was up in the north. The warmth was still present, but amongst the wind and sheltered by towering mountains it never seemed as pleasant as it did when surrounded by vibrant greenery and colourful wild flowers. He wasn’t sure if he regretted his decision to join the Basin yet, as he had only been with them for a very short time; but the lively scenery and bright blue sky was still a nostalgic image. He only had the bleak white and diluted grays to look upon in the Basin, despite the fact that grass did show in some places. It was little comfort in comparison to what he’d grown used to; lush foliage beneath his feet, and the familiar rustle of leaves with every gust of tropical wind.

Roland glanced back at Arah as she retreated slowly, forehead creased into a frown. He could tell she was uncomfortable and at a loss as to what she should do, but he expected nothing more of her than a little help, and what she had done for him already he was grateful for. Chuckling dismissively at her comment, he stretched his neck out and looked down at the now clean wound. There had never been much cause for worry about the nature of the lesion in his eyes, but he couldn’t blame her for being worried. The bite marks were raw and ugly, but in time they would heal and hopefully leave no scar to tell of their existence.

He grimaced at her question as the antlered mare leaned close to inspect the wound again. “Yes, I believe so. After being bitten I was consumed with deliriousness and lost my sight temporarily.” As Arah pulled herself from the stream he followed suit, hide shivering as he tried to shake some of the water from his short fur, giving her a calm look and gesturing around the meadow with his muzzle. “That’s how I ended up here, when I’d had no intention of wandering so far from the herd. But I don’t think it had any lethal effects, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be here at all,” he added with a grim smile.

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