The colt was not much to look at- skin draped languidly about his bony hips, and sagged to either side of his short jutting spine; neck was bowed, holding the bulk of his petite narrow face with all the strength it could muster; and cloudy white, unseeing eyes sunk gravely into their sockets, giving a rather ugly facade. A pointed horn, charcoal grey and well textured, grew well between his eyes. And two smaller, less conspicuous horns descended both in size and location, down the ridge of his short nose. His coarse, dull coat was ungroomed and matted by the friction of rubbing legs against his girth. It was average brown for the most part, though his slim rump was grubby white, and it sprayed delicately down each of his hind legs; reaching up to frost his pointed withers, and down to the tips of his knobbly elbows. Each leg was dressed with a pallid (yet dirty) sock pulled smartly up to about to his knees- and his hocks to the rear. The oily hairs building his mane and tail were short, and still somewhat downy; their hue the same as, if not darker than his coat.

Druid saw the world from a different perspective; he felt deeply and touched more intimately; perhaps his short pitiable life was truly richer however, than any other soul in Helovia. A breeze bitter and holding the promise of long awaited rainfall, fingered beneath the casual flop of his young mane. Its whispering breath reached forward to stroke the waiting whiskers spread about his chin and the colt sucked deeply through quietly fluttering nostrils. He could taste the shift of season in the early day, as he pressed closely against the rough bark of an old twisted tree clothed in thick, cool shade- a fringe of trees skirting a small clearing in Threshold’s vast forest. He had been lurking through this area for a week or so, skilfully learning the pattern of business undertaken by the many horses coming and leaving. Apparently few lingered for longer than a day (he had the basic understanding of a day- this time was generally filled with chatter, sunlight and the bustling commotion of activity).

Somehow, the colt’s loitering had passed the masses unnoticed. Druid preferred the peace and quiet of his chosen isolation, but found also a comfort for the instinctual longing for company, by sitting just beyond the crowds- untouched and ignored. He lacked social drive, the skills also needed to slip between these creatures and fit in. There had been no one to teach him these short six months that he had so far survived, and for the most part he knew no different. To Druid, this dark intimidating world was the norm. He smoothed a small round hoof across the loam, feeling the bulging resistance of a grassy tussock. Craning his short neck downward, the colt lipped resourcefully at the outstretched leg, following its path towards the grass at its end. Removing his hoof, he hastily chewed the tussock down until his teeth could find no more than the leftover, barely exposed roots. He lifted his face once more into the bleak darkness of his unique day, a soft sigh escaping the purse of his thin lips, and he pressed his ears forward against the hum of chatter to perhaps catch the direction of someone else’s conversation.