springtime blues [timeflys]

[pirouline]

FIONNA

Spring was the best time of year for Fionna. Though her aging dam had died around this time last spring, the towering mare still saw it as a season of birth. A season of new beginnings. Everything was bursting into fresh, lush, juicy green newness. Trees sprouted a thick coat of tender new leaves and tiny, brightly-pigmented blossoms. Just looking at them made Fionna drool in anticipation of autumn, when those little flowers would turn into deliciously ripe fruit. A new crop of her healing herbs was coming up both within and outside of the Halete Forest. Thought she was not yet part of herd that could benefit from her healing skills, she delighted in building up stores of her natural medicines. Usually she was only able to work on herself, as few horses came this way and those that did were either too terrified or awe-struck at her behemoth height to allow her to doctor them up. Very rarely did she meet any horse or other animal that would allow her to nurse them.

Getting to see the continuation of the local fauna's life cycle was another treat for the champagne mare. Every newborn was a lovely site to her, be they hatched or birthed in the mammalian manner. Every spring Fionna picked one infant to watch mature. Her favorites were the fallow deer that lived in Halete, but she would on occasion pick a nest of birds or a litter of coyote pups. She kept an eye on each up until the next breeding season. Though it was their increased age that played a part in her stopping, it was the mating season that really got her. It pained the spotted draft to see the tiny things she had watched grow up find a partner when she herself couldn't.

This season was particularly cruel. She had been out on her own, searching the fruit groves for trees in need of care. She had learned from her mother that trees refused to bear fruit unless they had unnecessary growth pulled away. The older mare had explained that this was because trees often preferred to make new branches instead of fruit, and that they would do so unless forced to stop and actually put their energy into the sugary treats. Fionna had been midway through tearing off a weak looking peach tree limb when something caught her eye. It was the little buck she had been watching these past few seasons. He was chasing a rival into the woods bordering the other end of the grove, a slim doe watching the proceedings with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes. Fionna smiled. The sight may have saddened her, but she did love to see them come into their own.

It was only when the buck went to mount the doe that she became uncomfortable. If horses could blush, she would have. Swallowing hard, the muscular mare turned around and trotted away.

[pirouline]

bump