Actions | "Speech" | Thought

This was a mistake...

The painted stallion thought as he walked towards the bright light of the lake. The sun-ish light dazzled him after the darkness of the Freelands. His coat shone white and pale gold in the golden glow. While he relished in the fact that he could see himself truly for the first time since before the sun refused to rise, he could not help but notice that the herd was ravaged by war. The distrustful eyes he often saw set upon his glowing silver-blue horn set him on edge. He imagined that they were waiting for him to betray them, to prove himself a spy for the north, and the idea that this was probably close to the truth made him angry.

This was why he hated herd life.

He approached the lake edge and lowered his head to take a draught of water. They couldn't hate him for that, could they? He had earned his right to quench his thirst- to survive, at the very least. He raised his head to glance up at the sky, blue because of the sun-like glow of the lake. He knew he needed to prove himself to these horses in order to be allowed to stay with Sia. Speaking of which, where was Sia?

They had not seen her since the day after they followed Kri into the Dragons Throat. He had come here to keep an eye on her, and he couldn't believe he had lost her. He flicked his tail. he was not really worried- they were in a herd, after all. The other horses would keep an eye on her, even if they did not trust him yet.

He did notice that many of the other horses seemed to have jobs to do. Would he have to choose a job as well? Sia had come here to learn from their healers. He didn't know if he would suit the healer life, though. Were there other job ladders he could climb, though? He thought about being a warrior and the strife training he had received from his bro when he was a yearling. He nodded, agreeing with himself. These horses looked like they needed more fit warriors to defend the place, especially if they were under attack.

With that decided, he wondered who he should speak to about starting the long, arduous journey to being a soldier of the Throat. He looked at all the horses standing in clumps of two-three, some bearing recent marks of battle, others young, some old. Most of them were winged, but he did see some that were like him, and some that were hornless and wingless.

He decided that he would have a better chance of making friends with ones that were like him, and so he approached a small group of them with a stoic pokerface dominating his expression.

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Open to anyone, thought I'd like a unicorn character to respond first, I don't care who it is. ^^;