Atop a tiny mound betwixt three trees, El Toro surveyed the land. It was flat. Not as flat as the desert - though much of that was adorned with dunes - but still, very, very flat. Compared to his usual grounds, it was more exciting, with growing things and animals that weren't scorpions, and in the shade of the rare trees the autumn wind sent a chill down his spine. A bed of evergreen needles made a blanket at his feet, albeit an itchy one he would not lie upon. This pause in movement was a brief respite, but a standing one, and Toro was ready to be on the move again. He appreciated the coolness of the air, far different from Solterra despite being only at its border, and the morning sun did not make his jewelry sear against his skin. The next time he took it off he would have to check for filigreed burns.
Slowly, the white stallion descended the shaded pine-hill, pausing only when a whiff of the air put him on alert. His pristine ears swiveled as his eyes scanned the plains. There. Brown lumps against the horizon were coming forward, slowly, making their way across the grazing land in the chill of half-risen sun. He wasn't quite certain what these beasts were called - they weren't present in his homeland, and certainly not Solterra - but they were bigger and louder than he was, and for all the fight he had in his bones he would not dare to anger such a creature. If he kept his distance, they would leave him be, and that was all he desired.
beats
@Raymond
