wc 203; sorry for the sucky short post...
Davyn sat quietly at the edge of the pasture overlooking the ranch, parchment and charcoal in hand. With the blanket of snow cozily covering the land around him, he found an irresistible pull to draw the charm that surrounded him. He had settled in nicely here, and had begun to rise in the ranks. He sighed, nodding to himself. His fingers skittered across the page, eyes wandering across the landscape, endeavoring to take in every possible detail.
The breeze kicked up, causing him to shiver slightly. He was careful to erase the lines that he had made mistakes on, depicting an almost exact replica of the scene that was laid out in front him. The livestock stood huddled together, conserving and sharing body heat, and the snow glistening in the fading light. The silver male stood silently, studying the change in the light, watching as the sun slowly set and the frost began to take hold of the land.
He marveled at the peace he felt inside; he felt at home, something he hadn’t felt since before he left Ireland. The scenery reminded him a lot of Ireland, but there was a peace here that Davyn hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.
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