His long ail dragged against the rough Earth, catching thistles along its travel. Head low with agony that he had not come upon any clay had driven the male mad. He was only about to give out when the sun finally peeked over the steep hilltop. His dome raised and he pushed harder until his legs were no longer on an unsteady slope. The stag’s harks perked forward as he looked down upon the beautiful valley meadow that rested below him, fulfilled with life. He smiled with glee and cantered down, his antlers thrashing through the air and his tail slashing like a newly sharped knife. The leather bag, flying through the wind as he fled down the hillside, knocked gently against his dark crown. His heart felt free, untamed and untouched. Yet, he still wished to be back with his native family, with his Adsila. Though, at this moment, he did not feel the pain that memories usually brought him, but new life instead.

Comanche had come here for only one reason, to find some clay. It was the only place he could find that had some decent clay. It was the only place that he knew that had a nice, damp, river running right through it. It had to occupy some clay, or else he would have to leave this place called Helovia, and he wasn’t exactly planning to any time soon. This place was like no other towards him, and it was probably the most exciting one too now that he had found a river. A river full of precious clay.

The stud smiled and walked up towards the bank where the crashing waves flew past him. The sound would have disturbed anyone else, but to Comanche, it was a song to lie down and relax to. Yet, the stallion had no time for relaxation, or else he would’ve stayed all day. But time flew by fast these days and it wouldn’t be long before the sun hunkered down beneath the horizon. His time was limited, but to his lucky defense, clay didn’t take too long to dry and then he would be off again. His life never seemed to pause but only spin around, around, and around without a break to breath. But Comanche had gotten used to it all, the hard work, the struggling, and the disasters. They didn’t fool him. At times, though, he did feel a little awkward.

Comanche stumbled up to the river banks, looking down into the clear waters, gazing at the silver clay. He pawed and pawed until he had a large round ball of silver clay. He sat down his bag gently and placed the clay inside, then followed the river upstream until he found a dirty-red colored clay and started his pawing all over again until he had a thick circle of that also. His gaze followed out into the open field. Comanche trotted, coming to the middle of the field where he started to dig until he found a dusty-golden. The stag smiled and rounded it into a circle before carrying it back to his bag. He put both red and golden clay circles into the bag before walking back to the river where he had found the red clay. He started pawing again, water slashing out everywhere. Comanche made one huge round ball before spreading it out into three different piles. He rounded each one into a circular shape and then pressed a hole in the middle using a hard rock, creating a three bowls. He stuffed each one back into his bag before heading off towards the fiery Heart of Helovia.

[Anyone can join. c: He's just gathering some clay.]

Comanche