Two pairs of hooves beat against the leaf-strewn ground, challenging the ceaselessly pounding rain and the booming thunder for dominance as the loudest source of noise there. This constant wandering had started to become a habit for the mischievous colt, and he found that with each day he was straying further and further from his mother's striped hide. The forest and its sopping wet carpet was still no match for the sea; at least in Caenan's eyes. The sound of rain pelting against the branches that hung over his horned head just wasn't the same as the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore; the whispers that the colt often heard within the retreating waters of his home were drowned out by the booms of thunder in this forested land, and he was unable to hear the warnings that the rain was trying to send to him.

Turn back, son of the sea! Turn back! There is nothing for you here; nothing here but death!

The bay colt pressed on, unconcerned by the voices that he could not hear in his own ignorance. One misplaced step was enough to send the boy crashing down towards the drenched earth, his foreleg disappering in the deep mud up to his shadowed knee. Carried by the momentum he had gained whilst running through the forest, Caenan could only observe the slick ground as it came closer and closer to his horned brow and, with a sickening -- and rather painful -- shliiiuuuup!, his leg was torn free from the earth's hungry lips, and the bay unicorn was carried forwards in the end of his somersault. With his legs splayed and his head and belly collapsed on the floor, the colt stared wide-eyed at the trench he had made during his crash landing, his brain still trying to comprehend what had just happened to its vessel.

In the moments that he had been taking to adjust to the pain and the trauma that was beginning to wrack his lithe body, Caenan had unknowingly put himself into a position of even more potential danger than just getting stuck in the mud. During the flight that had lead up to his current state of vulnerability, the frosted bay stag had managed to land just off to the side of a scorched patch of land. Had the young buccaneer been paying more attention, he would have noticed that a pair of gleaming eyes could be seen in the dripping bushes across from him, and that the real danger did not like with the storm.

"{OOC: Sortof-kindof a fail, I'm sorry D:}