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 Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2007 9:25 am
 It was mid afternoon, early enough for the heat to be at a tolerable level, but late enough that the silence brought from the morning had long since been vanquished by bustling creatures in their daily routines. The forest was an unusually loud place at this time of day, but the trees shielding the rays of sun made it more than worthwhile to stay, cool off and catch stray breezes.
Brannon had always been fond of the forest, and if anyone were to go looking for him, he'd more than likely be found there. He felt at ease, even safe in the embrace of old oak branches that obscure predator's sight, and the mossy overgrowth had always been comfortable to lay on. Today was no exception; one could easily find his dragging trail through skud marks on the earth and broken twigs feebly hanging by branch tips.
The stallion had found himself an alcove to stay for the day. His whereabouts are easily hidden from view thanks to a wall of bushes [as it usually tends to be with him nowadays] and a large fallen tree trunk. It was tricky getting the basket through, but now he felt certain it was a good choice to go through it after all. Making sure the bundle was safely tucked away, he dipped his head down to a nearby running creek, and enjoyed the cold sensation of water overcoming his thirst.
Little did he know that he had left a trail easy for someone small and close to the ground to follow.
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2007 9:16 am
Easy trail indeed. Altair was bored. In fact, he was so bored that he slipped away from Draven and decided without giving a second thought to any lurking danger to go and explore. This was one of the foal's favorite activities and damned if he was going to dampen his enjoyment and listen to Draven's droning on and on about safety and caution. What did he have to be scared of? He'd survived just fine on his own before Draven.
Step, step, step. Little hoofprints left his own trail as he wound his way through the forest and, when he spotted the trail left behind by Brannon, Altair grinned wide. Oh, lovely, another learning adventure! (The foal had, after all, learned all his speech and actions and survival from studying older Soquili).
Once he found the stallion (Who, in his opinion, was a bit plain compared to the big colorful and splashy ones he'd come across) he slid himself back into a bush to watch him. Observing was what the foal was after, not a conversation.
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Posted: Sat Aug 18, 2007 9:59 pm
Unfortunately, the stallion's current agenda was about as dull as what the colt thought of his appearance. Brannon was, for the most part, completely locked to the basket, and refused to do much until the bundle 'hatched'. Leaving it alone was out of the question, and constantly dragging and pushing it around was not only dangerous in terms of vulnerability, but it was also starting to show its wear and tear on the woven material itself. It was best for him to stay put for a while; so, there he was, lifting his muzzle after a long and refreshing drink, and thoroughly bored out of his mind.
He hadn't realized the basket would be so cumbersome, otherwise he might have had a second thought when asked by his closest friends if he would have the honor to raise their other foal. Or, perhaps if the waiting period wasn't as long as it has been, he would have been able to handle himself and the situation better, but as it is, it's been months since he had acquired his charge, and nothing, nothing, has happened.
A sigh escaped his lips, and he turns his head towards his frustration. His patience hadn't ever been tested this greately before, and it was starting to weigh down his usual sensible nature. How much longer will it be?
Just as he was looking away, the basket heaved dramatically outwards. Perhaps it wasn't much longer after all.
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