Perhaps it’s his youthful naivety that lets Po wander where he wants without harboring fear for the unknown. There’s a faith in him, an unexplained confidence in his own invincibility, a certainty that no one would attempt nor want to harm him. His world was filled to the brim with sunshine and flowers; wherever he went, they too seemed to follow.
It was an unspoken rule, or so he once seemed to think. Perhaps one day it would be this false faith of his that would come crumbling down in the worst of ways.
Today though, after all the events that had torn the world of Novus apart and left a gaping wound in their wake — he was simply numb. His mind was quiet; it hurt too much to think lately.
Flowers filled his footsteps, stems and blades of grass bursting to life at his touch, petals unfurling and reaching for the sky when his hoof lifted. Each step left a patch of life in its wake, a trail of daisies and dandelions and other wildflowers. He hardly noticed; only a few months ago he would have delighted in the magic, would have cantered happily through a field just to watch the flowers bloom, and perhaps he would again tomorrow. But not today.
Eventually the ground underhoof turns to stone, and the magic flowing from Ipomoea like water is brought to a halt. The rock rings out with every step, accentuating the roaring of the river below.
He walks along side it for some time, kicking at loose rocks he comes upon so they skip over the stone before tumbling into the water below. Only the presence of another horse is enough to wake his sleepy mind, forcing him to end his monotonous trodding. He lifts his head, and his gait seems a touch livelier, like he’s coming alive again.
“Hello,” he calls out, his voice drifting across the stone and water towards her. “I hope I’m not disturbing you?”
He had a gift for intruding, it would seem. But perhaps it would do them both some good to have the company today, despite how unwelcome it might be at first.
hearts are breaking
wars are raging on
you’ve got me nervous
i’m at the end of my rope
hey, man, we can’t all be like you
i wish we were all rose-colored too
my rose-colored boy
@
I am ready to start this thread in earnest and meet sloane
I promise you will not wait 3 months for the next reply lmao
”here am i!“
