Maybe to those with aging eyes and one too many cracks on hard ravaged hooves would find such landscapes the norm. Or ones with great many a thought may miss what lays before them, the simplest of beauty lost in a myriad of raging arguments. Upon young features the greatest perception is born and lost in time. The thistles moaned as they were pressed into the earth, a flash of chestnut here and white there. A squeal ripped through his miniature maw and the bounding colt bolted across the meadow. There was a limp visible in his movements as it hampered the speeds he could reach. A startled rabbit burst from beneath the bushes, its creamy tail flickering as she fled. There was a scramble of legs before Nym finally came to a stand still to watch the creature in wonder. Everything was new and exciting, his short fur rippled in the shallow breeze.

A rather spectacular red oak grew in all his magnificence just a little way in front of the colt, blue eyes bulged at its enormity. In similar fashion as his father, but not quite as extravagant, Nym bounced along to investigate. Not long since his birth the baby paint was already showing signs of personality which included a seemingly idiotic brave streak. Where most would run Nym would be there, bright eyed and curious. It was the kind of personality that would give his princely father, Torasin, a heart attack on a daily basis. Nym found this amusing. He knew his parents would be close by and Kiba was always watching from the skies. It was these very facts that annoyed the colt, he didn't like being watched. He didn't want to be watched. Nym was sure they did this on purpose, they cared for his well being but the young tovero did not see this. He only saw them in the way of the fun. The only one he wanted by his side was Abel, his twin brother. They could run off and create some mischief of their own, it would be perfect fun. The colt was also rather lazy at times, preferring to dose than listen. Especially through lectures. It all seemed so pointless to his young mind.

The tree loomed up before him, his little head tilted upwards wondering for a moment what Abel would do. How, so big! Can I grow that big? He raised to small hooves and placed them on the tree, leaning his muzzle between them in curiosity. The woody smell entered his nostrils and he recoiled whilst screwing up his nose. Nym then proceeded to give the tree and annoyed look, as if it had somewhat offended him in someway. A stump of a tail flashed upwards and the painted son left the tree in disgust. He had expected more from such a large thing. Nym decided he would be greater than that oak tree.

The meadow was beginning to loose its draw and it was only just approaching midday. He shifted direction and moved off to the soft flowing stream to take a drink, thinking about where he could go next. Blue eyes appeared in the water before him and rippled in the waters movements, Nym bored his eyes into his own.