It had been a long day. Exhausting really. Already the baroque-esque stallion was starting to regret his decision to intermingle with his kind. It was vastly apparent to him that he was much better suited to remaining alone. Screw company. Nothing could beat the symphony of silence that was solitude. So what if it was lonely? It was far superior than being nagged at, harassed, or otherwise annoyed. That’s what everyone else was. Obnoxiously annoying. He had utterly no reason to seek company. He was a stallion and dammit he could do what he wanted.

Dusk had fallen as he had trekked away from the cliffs and the seascape beyond. His hooves took him through the ravine and down to a stream. He wasn’t particularly thirsty so took the opportunity to step into the water. It felt cool against his aching feet and he sighed in relief. His neck lowered slowly, his eyes never leaving the horizon. The flow of the river tickled his whiskers as he drank deeply. Satisfied, he left the confines of the creek, following the course of it further from the edges of the world.

Soon he came across a canyon. Huge rock spires jutting up from the ground and sprawling as far the eye could see. The dark shadows cast by the protruding rock would provide some cover from would be predators. His deep coat would help him blend in he knew. His eyes surveyed the surrounding landscape. Nothing. Just the wind and the sky and the rocks. He inhaled deeply. The smell of other horses, but the scents were old and near faded. He strode forward, his hooves making muffled thumps on the hard ground.

He could feel the temperature dropping steadily the further he meandered between the towers. There was little grass but plenty of brush and other hardy foliage sprouting from the cracks and dust. It suited him just fine. He had been toying with the idea of settling down somewhere. To be frank, he wasn’t particularly keen on journeying any further. Solitude suited him just fine, but not the life of a wanderer. The stallion took another view of the surrounding terrain. Yes, this would do just fine.

A rumbling snort broke the silence, a declaration of his decision. No need for screaming his claim; such noise would just foolishly give away his position. Just because he couldn’t see or smell predators nearby didn’t mean they couldn’t be there. Centurion shifted his weight slightly, his hoof scratching the dirt. If anyone did show up he would simply give them three options: challenge him, join him, or get out. Easy.

Now, to find a sufficient place to spend the night.

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448 words ; claiming redgrave canyon