Solira: The Ocean: explorations; any

It didn’t take long for Passchendaele to separate from his mother’s side once in Solira; she didn’t pay him much attention, which he took to mean it must be safe here and he was allowed to explore. This meant, in fact, that he believed everywhere to be quite safe, though it remained to be seen whether that factored in to his carefree exploring or not.

He made his way to the waterfront, entranced by the crashing waves, their sparkling caps unlike anything he’d seen. His frowned in thought, as was his usual posture (and I kid you not, there was already a permanent wrinkle there, which gave him a rather distinguished air). He puzzled over the body of water. How was it, he mused, that it didn’t absorb into the sand beneath it? He’d observed rain falling on dirt and how it vanished and assumed when he came across ponds or rivers that the rocks beneath were what held it in place. But here the sand extended out, and he waded in several paces, puzzling over the way his hooves sank but did not sink. The problem with great intelligence of the equine variety is that there is little true means of finding an answer; he decided on his own that there must be rocks beneath the sand, and that was what held the water up.

On the way back he encountered a crab, and promptly stepped on it. He’d observed earlier, when he accidentally snapped in the air too quick and chomped down on a butterfly, that under great pressure little creatures sometimes break and cease to move. He lifted his hoof, shook off the squished crab, and watched it intently. It did not crawl anymore. He didn’t understand death, but was smart enough to associate this finale of the little crab would be similar to the finale of any creature. Horses too, he mused, must stop moving if squished. He made a note to ask his mother about this strange phenomenon; she never paid him much mind but could always be counted on to answer his endless stream of questions. His curiosity seemed to amuse her greatly and he liked when he could make her smile.

That’s what sons did, no? Impressed their parents. It wasn’t very hard, and by asking questions and watching her contented smirk, he’d already figured out how to work her like a puppet. Life really is very simple, you know. He turned to the sea and said as much, sharply under his breath: “You can’t fool me.” His lazy eye drifted.