Post by « F u l é a o on Apr 25, 2011 13:23:21 GMT -5
Spring was in full tilt. As the weather grew warmer and wetter, it had fomented a flurry of rebirth in the local botany. The browns and greys of winter were overwhelmed by an epidemic of color; emerald greens, mostly, splattered with a vibrant motley of blooms and insects. Even the sky looked more alive, having exchanged its slate-colored mantle of clouds for a bright, friendly blue.
And then there were the birds, of course. The little wimps were back en masse now that pickings were easier. Everywhere their plumage furthered the riot of colors, and hardly a moment went by that wasn't filled with their songs. Nagisa had missed their racket, though what exactly they were on about, she didn't know. As far as she knew, birds didn't converse with horses. Usually they would flitter away before you could get close enough to try, anyway.
The best part of spring, though, was indisputably the grass. Not the most vivid participant in this frenzy of sprouting, but it more than justified itself by being the most delicious. It was the reason she put up with the obnoxiously frequent rains of the season. The Lush Fields were well named; here, the earth's fur grew thick, soft, and very appetizing. A long winter of dead fodder made it even better.
Currently, Nagisa stood knee-deep in the stuff, tearing it from the ground with little remorse. She was alone. In fact, she hadn't seen anyone since returning from the shore, and the sun had made fair progress across the sky since then.
Oh well. The territory was big enough to keep her from being concerned. Rather than bother to go looking for the others, the rabicano decided a little time to herself might be nice. Not to think or anything; very little was going on in her mind at the moment. It was enough just gorge herself on spring grass and listen to the birds call, and have it all to herself.
And then there were the birds, of course. The little wimps were back en masse now that pickings were easier. Everywhere their plumage furthered the riot of colors, and hardly a moment went by that wasn't filled with their songs. Nagisa had missed their racket, though what exactly they were on about, she didn't know. As far as she knew, birds didn't converse with horses. Usually they would flitter away before you could get close enough to try, anyway.
The best part of spring, though, was indisputably the grass. Not the most vivid participant in this frenzy of sprouting, but it more than justified itself by being the most delicious. It was the reason she put up with the obnoxiously frequent rains of the season. The Lush Fields were well named; here, the earth's fur grew thick, soft, and very appetizing. A long winter of dead fodder made it even better.
Currently, Nagisa stood knee-deep in the stuff, tearing it from the ground with little remorse. She was alone. In fact, she hadn't seen anyone since returning from the shore, and the sun had made fair progress across the sky since then.
Oh well. The territory was big enough to keep her from being concerned. Rather than bother to go looking for the others, the rabicano decided a little time to herself might be nice. Not to think or anything; very little was going on in her mind at the moment. It was enough just gorge herself on spring grass and listen to the birds call, and have it all to herself.
