The surest sign of strength
that I have ever seen
is gentleness
Trotting briskly, invigorated by a newfound sense of direction and validation, the unexpectedly positive results of his first exploration into the world of courtly politics, it's with even less discretion than he usually displays - which is already abysmally little at times - that the mule goes striding through the garden. Head held high and ears erect, a bystander might have thought him on parade, with the silver bell braided into his tail ringing cheerily, punctuating every high-kneed step in perfect time, but less whimsically, he's actually chosen to release tension this way.that I have ever seen
is gentleness
Mules don't do anything on a whim, you know.
By indulging himself in this moment of pure joy and celebration, setting aside his never-ending analyses - temporarily, of course - he allows himself the freedom to simply be, to ride the surge of endorphins flooding his brain like a bristle- or wing-tipped seed relying on wind alone to bring it to new and fertile lands. It might have been a well deserved and stabilizing break in character for him, if the moment hadn't also brought him near to colliding with someone between the hedges.
His field of vision suddenly blocked by sweeping, gold-strewn horns and milk-white plaits, he fumbles to pull up short, only barely managing by sitting on his hocks and leaning backward. "Oh!" He exclaims, "Excuse me!" Grinning apologetically and hopefully disarmingly, he scrambles back to a standing position. "I really need to break this habit of barging in on people." And when he's just as suddenly confronted with the assertion that this is a secret, presumably private spot, the words emphasized by a warning bay from what must be a very large dog, he retreats another step.
"My apologies! I'm not familiar with the gardens. This is actually my first time here. I don't want to take your spot!"
@Khier
