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The sand felt smooth beneath her hooves, the waves gently lapping at her legs as she stood knee-deep in the water. Her eyes, a soft azure, stared out across the equally blue expanse of the ocean, taking in the sight of the large body of water. Ever so slowly, a breath was released from her lungs, long and exasperated. Waiting a few seconds more, she sucked in another deep breath, letting it out just as slow as the first one. The mare almost looked sad, standing in the churning waves of the shore, staring out at nothing. Instead, her mind had wandered, completely forgetting the land around her… Her thoughts danced of a certain grullo stallion, wondering where he was or what he was doing. Xanthos came from a harsh land, the Basin, and she couldn’t help but worry and fret over him whenever they parted ways. Would he be alright?
Ever so slowly the Haflinger came back to herself, lifting her head as she snapped to attention. Red ears turned upright, swiveling frontwards, taking in the sounds of the crashing ocean. Feeling came back to her, the gentle caress of the waves brushing past her legs, the lulling current pushing and pulling… It was mystifying, which is why Romani lost herself to her thoughts in the first place.
“I’m becoming an old nag, losing my senses like this,” the Foothills warrior murmured softly, a somewhat sardonic grin crossing her lips. Where had this mood come from? The skies were overcast, the sun hidden behind a thick layer of clouds. Perhaps that was what was responsible for her out of the norm mood. Despite that, it was warm out, but evening was fast approaching. Soon, it would be nightfall… She would do best to return to the Foothills before it got darker.
With one last look across the ocean, Romani turned on her haunches and trudged through the waves back onto shore, giving each leg a little shake to rid itself from the excess water. Her feathers stuck to her hooves, attracting dirt and sand as she strode across the beach, but she didn’t mind. The Haflinger wasn’t one for vanity or maintaining a ‘beautiful’ appearance, after all. With a snort, the palomino tossed her head and picked up her gait into a smooth, flowing trot. Hopefully she would return home without incident.
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