Conditions Of My Parole.

This place looked like a shithole. Not a single thing he saw pleased the eyes and the continuous downpour had already started to glue the white strands of the forelock to the red and black on his face. Well, at least it matched his mood. He sighed lightly and decided a good stretch may kick his brain cells into working properly so he could figure out how a simple pond could turn black and swallow him into what seemed to be a different dimension. Without an ounce of grace, he pushed his large chest forward, letting his back legs stand firm as his head sought towards the wet sky.

Pop.

Holy shit. He wan't a colt anymore, that was for sure! Even his back begged him to be careful. Fuck this then. He found his normal stance after giving his body a firm shake to get rid of the water, but also to loose up any muscles that had tensed after the unfortunate fall. It wasn't until he settled that he heard an unfamiliar voice. His head turned against the source and for a second he regarded the other in silence as the question hung between them.

It was not hard to figure out it was a she and that made him automatically tense up. His head was held high, his stance was close to regal as he finally spoke. "For you, little one - always a friend."

@Zahra