Post by raven on Jul 13, 2009 11:09:18 GMT -5
Whiskey ran through the forest, dodging trees both fallen and intact. His nostrils flared as he pounded his daggers into the ground. There was no reason for his running, just for fun you could say. Another fallen tree came to sight, he leaped and landed on the other side. He skidded to a stop and looked around. His breathing was a little heavy but it didn't seem to bother him much. His thirst on the other hand caused him to want to head to the creek. Brute trotted his way over to the creek and did not even bother to stop on the edge. As he stood in the cool water, he craned his neck and dipped his muzzle in to get a drink. The stallion raised his head and looked around as the cool water healed his dry throat. Tail swished back and forth and he craned his neck once more continued to drink.