WJ Entry #005
June 13, 2019
His days are filled with lush grass in his mouth, cool shade at his back and the accompanying sound of heavy trotting from time to time. He's young, barely a year old, but he already feels like part of the herd. It could be because of the way he attempts to climb trees even though he's a horse or even, the way he dips his hair too far into the water and has to erratically swish his head about to feel dry again. They watch him in mild amusement, tails swishing and ears flicking occasionally. Sometimes, the younger ones join him, sometimes the elder ones' snap at his heels and sometimes, there's this utter feeling of tranquillity and quiet in the air as everyone grazes and blinks out into the distance. They're happy to just...feel alive, he guesses.
Everyone depends on him for reconnaissance and as the youngest (and possibly most energetic) horse, he performs his duties with absolute vigour. He loves patrolling the area during the days. Especially when the sun's at its highest point, beating down on his sweat-drenched back. It makes the relief of freshwater and shade all the more enjoyable.
​
He trots away from his herd to start his afternoon patrol but comes to a sharp halt as his ears prick up stiffly. He stills his body in attention and strains his senses until he hears them. Two voices whispering to each other, the deep baritone of a male and the lighter soprano of a female. His eyes widen and he quickly turns back to relay the news to his brethren.
​
Before he can warn them, however, their heads pick up as they all stare into the distance in unison. He swivels his body to witness this moment.
​
The first thing his eyes catch is a shade of golden blonde, just a bit lighter than his dusty mane. It dances and shimmers in the wind and he forces his eyes to move past the pretty hairs to the rest of the scene. There's a woman, with tanned brown skin, dark hair that seems to fade to the bewitching golden tones, a strange contraption on her face and a smile so bright at the sight of them that he almost misinterprets it for a snarl. Her limbs are lean looking and she barely stands taller than the shoulder of her companion. The male is much more intimidating he thinks, with fair skin, coiled brown curls, a contraption on his head and an orange pouch strapped to his back.
These things are called humans, he's told. Most of them aren't too bad. Most of them.
​
He takes a step back as they approach, the girl is all smiles and her companion drops to a crouch to reign in his presence. The thing on her face runs across her eyes in a grid-like fashion but this doesn't seem to bother her. She drifts away from the male and tentatively holds up her palm for him.
He's adamant at first but the sharp hit of his leader's hoof on the ground lets him know that these humans are part of the 'most'.
​
It takes about four painfully slow steps to approach her and the closer he gets, the close her eyebrows move towards each other. She almost seems...scared, as though she's ready to pull back her arm at a moments notice. This confuses him, if there's anyone who should be scared, it's him.
He decides to cut the tension so he softly lifts his head to gently touch her palm. It's warm and soft and smells a little like the grass he's so fond of. Her smile widens and she firmly pets his nose. The sensation causes him to twitch his nose and this is apparently, the cutest thing she's ever seen because she peals with laughter and turns her head to question her male about the whole exchange. The male huffs out what sounds like a laugh and mirrors her excited smile.
Today, his day is filled with lush grass in his mouth, cool shade at his back, the accompanying sound of his herd and the gleeful laugh of nice humans. Today is a good day.