Post by Thalion Alyameldir on Jan 14, 2008 3:49:56 GMT
Footsteps rang through the stable's vast halls. They were soft, but it was so quiet that they echoed. The normally light-footed preteen was honestly a bit uncomfortable being noticed. Whenever he had the chance to avoid social meetings, he would, unless his friends were involved. He wasn't inclined to strangers, thus the reason being why he didn't have any friends at all. Instead, he took to animals, and especially horses. His family had been knights and wizards, just like he, so he had a lot of experience with sword on horseback.
However, he hadn't the luck to ever own a horse. Let alone spend every chance he could with one. His best friend in life had been a flea-bitten gray mare named Jazz. They made the perfect match. She was out-going and spunky, while he was reserved and slightly observant. They completed each other. Oh yes, he had spotted the horse trailers being unloaded and the horses being placed into their stalls. He even saw one that caught his eye, entranced him, and made him want to meet him. Hence the reason he was here, obviously, because he was curious.
Thalion scanned the stalls with his light blue eyes, searching for the horse he saw the other day. Whenever a horse greeted him, lifting its head out of the stall, he would rub their muzzles if they allowed it. Unfortunately, he had left his sugar cubes back at his dorm, so he couldn't please them. Toward the middle of the lines of stalls, he found the horse he was looking for.
The gelding was an extremely dark bay, black to the people who weren't familiar with horses. The horse lifted its head in greeting, staring at Thalion with curious brown eyes. Thalion could not help but rub his muzzle with both of his hands, the warmth making him feel better. He stood back, searching for the nameplate. It read "Patriot" in army style letters. Weren't patriots people in the United States that fought for their independence, and won against Britain?
However, he hadn't the luck to ever own a horse. Let alone spend every chance he could with one. His best friend in life had been a flea-bitten gray mare named Jazz. They made the perfect match. She was out-going and spunky, while he was reserved and slightly observant. They completed each other. Oh yes, he had spotted the horse trailers being unloaded and the horses being placed into their stalls. He even saw one that caught his eye, entranced him, and made him want to meet him. Hence the reason he was here, obviously, because he was curious.
Thalion scanned the stalls with his light blue eyes, searching for the horse he saw the other day. Whenever a horse greeted him, lifting its head out of the stall, he would rub their muzzles if they allowed it. Unfortunately, he had left his sugar cubes back at his dorm, so he couldn't please them. Toward the middle of the lines of stalls, he found the horse he was looking for.
The gelding was an extremely dark bay, black to the people who weren't familiar with horses. The horse lifted its head in greeting, staring at Thalion with curious brown eyes. Thalion could not help but rub his muzzle with both of his hands, the warmth making him feel better. He stood back, searching for the nameplate. It read "Patriot" in army style letters. Weren't patriots people in the United States that fought for their independence, and won against Britain?
