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It is mid-morning; unseasonably mild, particularly here in the shade of this dense forest canopy, but still far too warm and humid to be comfortable for a big hairy beast like Yves. Drafts were not designed for this season. The dappled stallion sweats profusely under his heavy mane as he walks, absent-mindedly rolling a wad of sourgrass around his mouth. It is not an attractive habit. The tangy leaflets pucker his mouth and stimulate his salivary glands, causing bright green foam to accumulate around his lips. Even alone, he cannot help but feel self-conscious about how he must look. Still, the temporary reprieve from his thirst is well worth looking a little ridiculous, and besides, the bright, citrusy flavor is not unpleasant.
Yves’ dinner plate hooves press gently into the silty soil. Almost gingerly, he avoids crushing the undergrowth with a practiced, delicate stride. His eyes are constantly scanning the forest around him with curiosity, but not caution; he is noting subtle changes in the vegetation, continually updating his mental map of what grows where. Does it matter? Will he ever be back here? He deftly tiptoes around these existential questions, directing his attention instead to gnashing down vigorously on the lump of leaves. I’m lonely. The thought strikes him like a boulder, forcing the air from his lungs in a great whoosh. This, too, he ignores.
Yves
OOC: Open to any - I'd like him to join a herd, but he can go anywhere. =)
