The summer heat was more than Sunset Curacao could easily tolerate. Sodium had thankfully hid the glass in which the stallion loved to drink from. The humid air made it hard for the half-gryph, half-angeni to maintain a dignified appearance. Humidity often caused his feathers to become soaked with moisture and appear unsightly. Finding out that one could not easily fly with damp plumage had been a rather uncomfortable experience. Eating dirt was not something that Sunset wished to experience again.
Reflecting on the memory of his disgraceful attempt Sunset groaned aloud before raking his talons across the ground. He had found a cool, shaded location and the stallion had been pleased that a small shallow stream meandered through this place. He did not have to immediately leave if he felt that his thirst returned. It would have been nice to have a spot of company but after reflecting on his last few encounters Sunset Curacao believed in playing it safe. There encounter with Bella had gone wrong from the first words he had uttered towards the mare. Considering that he had been woken up from a drunken stupor had not helped his case at all.
Sharmila, well, that meeting had been doomed from the start when he had assumed that she was a walking talking form of tree. Again he had been bleary-eyed and not at all sharp-minded for that initial meeting. He had met her once again after that but they hadn't conversed for very long.
The last two mares that he had come across, Sin'dorei and Tourmaline, had been receptive to his company for a while. But they too had eventually made excuses to leave his presence. Was there something wrong with him? What was it that turned those of the female persuasion away from him?
The stallion sighed before walking over to the stream and peering down at his reflection. What he saw reflected back at him was a very brightly colored stallion with wings that any flier would be proud to have. His face was a pleasant one to look upon and he had the most striking green eyes. The reflection didn't show his legs but Sunset knew that the beige color reminded him of the sand that he wandered over countless times and his talons, well those were darn useful to have in a fight or for merely gripping things.
So why was it the case that he had problems? Feeling a bit conscientious Sunset peered more closely at his reflection in the water before the realization came to him: perhaps it was his lack of self-confidence that was dragging these seemingly erratic meetings down and turning them into doomed failures. Maybe it was his fault. He had to change his way of thinking and fast. If he didn't; would he be doomed to be forever alone, forever staring down at his reflection and wondering what could be instead of what he could make it?
