Fern claim attempt

"A bell rings clear and serenely in the young man's hand, it's tied securely to a blue ribbon. He's meandering towards a herd of ponies, none standing above 14 hands. He seems a little tall for them. But he's not the one who plans to ever ride such a pony. He's just here to make that choice, hoping to find a pony that'll make a perfect companion for his son. His son who is yet to learn how to walk, who continues to persistently escape their dwellings to crawl towards his parents horses. 

The man's attention falls onto a black mare with a long, flowy silver mane. Her tail is short, her eyes warm and mildly curious. Her coat is jet black, as dark as the night, except for a small white snip on her muzzle. She's fluffy and it reminds the man of his own horse back home. 

He's not much of a rider. His horse is more of a companion and pack animal, often carrying lamps or weakened sheep from their flock. But there's a village over the mountains and its people have horses, more than pretty much anywhere else. They're an unusual sight back home. And in that village, there's people who could teach both his son and a prospective steed how to ride and whatever else they'd need.

The man has come here to get it all started. And the black mare who looks at him with gentle eyes may just be the perfect fit. She seems young still, not a foal or yearling, but not fully grown either. The other ponies are sturdy and she's on her way there too- she'd be more than fit to thrive where the man's family lives. Alpine mountains, above trees, amidst sheep that graze on higher pastures in summer and down below when it grows cold. 

The man offers a calloused hand to the mare. She carefully nuzzles him, surprising him with how open she is to interaction and how comfortable she seems. He must smell strange to her, but maybe her lack of human interaction makes him seem normal to her. And he is somehow confident she'd remain just as calm if she realized he wasn't. Smiling softly, he begins to braid the bell into her mane. Hair that is as beautiful and unruly as the mountains, it must have been growing for as long as she's lived without ever tearing. He wondered if that was a good sign- that her mane and so things fixed to it tended to remain with her."

Submitted By Azurakyotha
Submitted: 7 months ago ・ Last Updated: 7 months ago