Chapters Eleventh of the Harvest, 189th Greensfounding
It is now to you that I relinquish my deepest thoughts, upon you that I bombard my heart's ramblings; and most importantly, through you that I order my mind so that I may best be at peace. Perhaps it is due to fear of what may yet come to pass that I turn to a mere book in an attempt to tell the story of my, if not exceptional, then perhaps exceptionally ordinary, life.
As if the name I wrote upon your cover isn't enough to satisfy whatever snoop or scholar or even lover that eventually reads this, my name is Flamehearth. I am a ~~colt~~ stallion, now, living in the village of Greenstable. Though not strictly forbidden , it is quite uncommon for a colt to have learned to read or write, especially at my age (sixteen, for the benefit of the unlikely reader that has not made my acquaintance). I simply had a great degree of time on my hoooves when I was a colt. My herdmothers didn't seem to feel it was harmful to teach me, though I do not currently believe they knew at the time how very adept at it I would become. I don't read as much as I'd like, because there is little to read in our small village. I'm quite sure I've read every book in Greenstable.
Writing, however, became a proclivity of mine. Well, a secret passion as best it could be. Learning was one matter, but practising for pleasure on a regular basis was most definitely another entirely. At first, when I was truly learning, my herdmothers didn't mind, but as I aged, they began to see it as a setback. Considering that it took me sixteen years to earn my cutie mark, I cannot disagree entirely, but I'm unsure how their alternatives expedited the process. The past year and a half, it seems, have been spent entirely on presenting me at various social occasions in the village. I imagine they were trying to advertise that I would soon be considered eligible for courtship.
According to tradition, colts are not sought for courtship. Once a colt earns his cutie mark, though, he is a stallion and very quickly finds himself in a herd with a mare... Not unlike a favourite story of mine. The handsome prince Azure, locked away in a tower, rescued by the beautiful and daring hero Thunder Star and her witty and brilliant friend, Featherblush. The trio fell in love and made a herd and lived happily until the end of their days. I read it three years ago, and four times since.
Pardon the digression. I'll admit the story sparked something unexpectedly mature in me. I hadn't yet expressed any particular interest in fillies, but after that I was rather partial to the idea of a grand romance. From that beginning, though, it has always been the notion itself that I've dreamed of, the idea of being courted and forming a loving herd and so on, rather than any inclination towards fillies for their own sake, though that certainly came in its own time. I've kept this to myself, as best I could, but I do admit I quite enjoyed being paraded around at such gatherings; Harvestfeast and other such celebratory events as well as small get-togethers with other herds. I imagine these events ~~construct~~ ignited ~~my passion for ma~~ the true flame of my heart...
I remember a filly, by now a mare, named Cloudshield. Uncommon name. I like it, I guess, it's rather exotic, the kind of name a pegasus would have. Her (and her parents) were sitting near us last Drycold's End Feast. My herdmother Ivory Wish made the introduction. Actually, Ivory and one of Cloudshield's herdmothers, Alabaster Wish, are twin sisters. Quite the oddity, or so I presume. I don't know of another pair of twins in Greenstable, though that could just as well be a result of my (thankfully former) asocial behaviour.
Perhaps because of this common root, one of familial friendship, or perhaps for a reason I'll find quite unfathomable, they seemed to fancy the idea of Cloudshield courting me in the future. After the feast, our families had private social gatherings and the like far more often. Besides herdmother Ivory, the rest of my family, even my father, seemed to like Cloudshield quite a bit.
She's not 'unappealing'. She's beautiful and capable and comes from a nice family. If I were to ~~join her herd~~ start a herd with her, I imagine my life would be quite well-ordered and without hardship. Such is nothing to complain about.
I just- I hope she'd be romantic, you know? I hope she'd put effort into courting me if she were to.
This, then, may be this disadvantage that came from reading such a romantic novel so many times. I dream so frequently about the attentions and affections of my beautiful princess that I have become too selective. A stallion is expected to be courted as his parents deem suitable, and my parents seem likely to deem Cloudshield very acceptable and her courtship equally so.
I'm likely deluding myself. Cloudshield may not even fancy me, and if she does, I would be lucky to be her stallion. She'd be a fantastic lead mare. She really could build a functional, healthy, lively herd.
Life's a funny thing. I'm not old enough to know, not really. The greater quantity of my own has yet to come. I've years ahead of me and a good herd is a way to ensure a good life for a stallion like me. My mothers cannot support me for long.
No, it is simply the way of things. Perhaps the blessing of wisdom and brilliance has, in actuality, been my undoing. It would serve my interests best if I were to simply accept my lot in life as a stallion and learn to love ~~the life I can~~ whoever I must.
It wouldn't be deceptive of me to say that I am anticipating courtship, now that I have my cutie mark. My trepidations are, in all actuality, far less pressing than the (admittedly childish) rush of excitement I've been feeling for the past hours. There's a fair degree of pride in there, as well. It wasn't particularly momentous, but waking up with a cutie mark is an experience I'll only have once.
There are now several small, orange motes of flame on my flanks. I'm quite proud of this in particular, as it matches my father's own cutie mark to near perfection, even if it isn't uncommon for similar cutie marks to form among familial lines. However, where he has five motes, I have seven, and in a notably different pattern. The significance of this may yet impress itself upon me, but for now, the familial similarity is a cause for joy. Neither my father, Hearthtrust, nor myself are quite sure what the motes of flame symbolise, either. Some families have cutie marks that are directly indicative of their paths in life, and others pass along more abstract designs. It is irrelevant, at the moment, because even having an abstract cutie mark is cause enough for my elation. I must say, the motes of fire do look a bit more fetching on me, if only because my coat is a dark grey rather than my father's off-white fur.
Such thoughts may be the result of pride, and should perhaps be disregarded before they negatively impact my relationship with my father. Nevertheless, there is enough pride inherent in being a stallion, and no longer a colt, that I do not feel compelled to claim superiority based solely on the nature of my cutie mark. Merely having one is enough of a blessing.
If the joy of earning a cutie mark and the anticipation, both cheerful and worrisome, of my impending courtship are not enough to render a day quite fulfilling, then I do not know what would do so. Perhaps time will yet unfold an even more pleasant surprise.
Until Again I Solemnly Record,
Flamehearth
Fifteenth of Harvest, 189th Greensfounding
As I sit here, in my bedroom, in my own chambers, I wonder if my oddities and quirks have e'er played against me. As I mentioned before, I believe that the effects of my unusual literacy have been detrimental, if only as far as to make me withdrawn and selective when I should be exposed and permissive.
Beyond this, my intellect seems only to work in my apparent favour. It has added, or been solely responsible for, my successful integration into certain social circles. It could be said that this is to my disadvantage, that I am too socially comfortable around mares. In actuality, I believe I'm quite prone to bouts of shyness, yet I apparently carry myself quite differently than most stallions– Or rather, differently than is expected of a stallion.
I must do something to change this. I know what a stallion is supposed to be, how a stallion is supposed to behave. I do not maintain any particular objection to this expectation, either. No, elements of this standard are actually rather pleasing. And yet, I cannot seem to achieve them.
I've heard, perhaps as a compliment, that I am akin to a mare. I'm unsure how to interpret this. Is this a comment on my appearance? Am I mareish, and thus unattractive? The events of the past several days attest greatly to the contrary. Hmmm...
Perhaps I simply associate well enough with mares that, if I were to disguise myself adequately as one, I would be indistinguishable from a mare proper?
~~As contrived as the idea seems~~
As much as I'd like to believe this, I admit it might be wishful thinking. I cannot think of a more complimentary interpretation of the statement. There is quite probably some reason for the compliment that I do not yet understand, some social construct the purpose of which is not as of yet apparent to me.
In either ~~scenario~~ ~~eventuality~~ case, I should be cautious. I ought to be more stallionlike, if only because it is now far more socially inappropriate for me to be seen otherwise in a circle of mares, especially one that might be familiar with Cloudshield.
Cloudshield... Such fascination, such daydreaming may be coltish of me, but if it is a coltish impulse then it is one I will gladly indulge.
She began courting me officially last evening. Implications and potentialities are relics of my past now; the moments of reality are at hand and the need for choice and action is keenly felt. She arrived, rather unexpectedly, at my family's home. The sun was half fallen, it was a slightly chilly midafternoon, and I'd been doing very little for the entirety of the day.
I was surprised, then, when father called me to the door. Herdmother Arbour was away and I'd thought the rest of the family to be asleep. I myself was rereading a rather mediocre book, called Taming a Pegasus, one of three books I myself own. It's a rather bland bit of romance between a pair of mares and a pegasus stallion, but I was curious about the presence of a pegasus therein.
I'm digressing again.
Cloudshield arrived and my father called me away from my reading. I was surprised when I saw her at the door and even more so when she asked if I had been courted yet. Obviously, since I had not, I responded truthfully. She gave me a flower to wear then, solidifying her prior implication– she indeed intended to court me.
Neither father nor Ivory seemed particularly surprised at the flower. It's really quite a pretty flower, actually. It's still sitting on my (pleasantly large) bedside table. It matches her colours, of course, as is tradition. Blue on lighter blue looks quite fetching, if I'd be allowed to comment.
After she returned me to my family, she asked Ivory directly if she might escort me back to her home for a meal. I was mildly surprised at this, simply because I was unaware she had built her own house.
I later found out it wasn't exactly a house proper, but actually a little compartment of sorts. Cloudshield, like her herdmother Silver Watcher, is in the Border Guard, the band of brave mares that keep Greenstable safe. Apparently, junior members often sleep in compartments inside the village walls themselves. I didn't even know the walls had compartments, actually, beyond what leads up to the Guardstower at the north end.
With Ivory's permission, Cloudshield took me back to her “home”. It was quite lovely, really, if a bit... ~~Hard~~ harsh. Being constructed entirely of stone will make any dwelling feel rather harsh, I'd imagine. I wonder how they managed before Greensfounding....
Cloudshield served me a meal of fine herbs, a rather expensive gesture for a first day of courtship. It was a fairly quiet meal, maybe unsurprisingly so. She asked me about myself a bit, though, which was excruciatingly pleasant. She returned me home, of course. The distance between our dwellings is somewhat significant. She avoided the central square of the village, lengthening the walk further. A choice which, in retrospect, I have little doubt was quite intentional.
The sun was nearly setting below the horizon when we left her dwelling, and as the sky shifted slowly to a dark violet, I became acutely aware that I was shivering rather uncomfortably. It was below a temperature I found pleasant, certainly, and I believe Cloudshield realised this. She ignored any prior illusion of the abstract concept called a “personal space” from that point on. I cannot say I raised any objections.
When we reached my house, she lingered on my doorstep for a moment, holding me there with conversation that even I, horribly inexperienced at social protocols, could tell was becoming increasingly trite. I was tired, to be sure, but more pressingly, I was still quite cold. In my hurry, I kissed her quite rapidly on the side of her face (I still cannot be sure it was her cheek). I meant it more as a diversion, affording me a quick escape from the (quite literally chilly) situation, but as I continue to consider my actions I must say I am quite ~~enjoying~~ pleased by the outcome. I slept exceptionally that evening, as well. I imagine I'll see her again tomorrow, if not this very evening, and I am very much looking forward to her presence.
Happily and Anticipatory,
Flamehearth
Author's Note
I was ecstatic to receive such positive feedback on the last chapter, even if it did spiral into a debate. To the few who did give me constructive criticism, I'm quite grateful for that as well.
Eighteenth of Harvest, 189th Greensfounding
Again, or perhaps continually, I find myself indulging the most coltish of impulses; indeed doing so with significant enthusiasm. Daydreaming about Cloudshield is likely the most prominent among them, and such daydreams, such fanciful thoughts, are frequently at the forefront of my mind.
It would be dishonest to claim objection to this fact. I enjoy my daydreams, and it seems as if many of them will come to be reality of themselves. Cloudshield is truly exceptional. Her courtship of me seems the fare of grand romances, perhaps to be the inspiration of a story that will delight for ages to come.
This past evening, she took me to watch stars from atop a guard tower. I was concerned, sensibly, that her superiors would be less-than-fond of such usage. Her reassurances may have quieted my protests, but I still believe that our actions may yet bring her undue misfortune. I imagine, were she present, that she would recommend I worry no longer. Perhaps she is correct, but I would feel quite guilty if she was reprimanded over our time together.
Nevertheless, the evening itself was nothing short of magnificent. Cloudshield is beautiful, of course, but she looked resplendent in the moonlight. She held me close and showed me more stars and starshapes than I had ever thought to see. It was very comfortable, though I imagine her warmth made it far more so than it might have been were I alone.
I didn't count the time we spent up there, but it seemed like hours. Everypony was asleep by the hour she'd returned me home. Ivory seemed ~~perturbed~~ ~~irrit~~ significantly angered in the morning.
I am unable to deny the validity of her irritation, though. Cloudshield was rather intimate with me. I haven't yet given her the fullest extent of favours that I might, but perhaps that will come in due course. Still, the closeness of the evening provided her the opportunity to explore the vast majority of my form. I believe there may be a bruise on my neck, as well. Hmmm... It was a pleasant evening indeed.
She kept me wrapped up gently with her hindlegs for hours, while stargazing and when stargazing grew rather dull. She smelled very sweet, it was rather shocking at first. Perhaps I am simply unused to proximity to a mare. She braided part of my mane. I've left it that way since. I'll likely leave it in a braid until she herself undoes it, as a show of ~~dedicati~~ undying affections.
She found a rather sensitive spot at the base of my neck. I'm rather hopeful, then, that she remembers its location. I can't recall more enjoyable sensations. Her attentions were, in their entirety, among the most pleasant moments of my life. I'm almost certain I love her.
For Her and Her Alone,
Flamehearth
Author's Note
This was rather difficult to write, and I'm still not perfectly happy with it, but I imagine it's time to move on to another entry. It does what it was meant to do, certainly. Enjoy!
Twentisecond of Harvest, 189th Greensfounding
I must beg the pardon of whomever reads this, as it will probably be unpleasant. Unpleasant seems the word best fit to describe my current mood.
~~Yesterd~~ ~~t~~ The evening before last, I was expecting to spend another lovely set of hours with Cloudshield. We'd made arrangements, that is. I admit these arrangements were vague; I had little idea what she had planned, but there were arrangements in place nevertheless. ~~And~~
To my very unpleasant surprise, such arrangements didn't occur as planned. Nor did they occur at all. I haven't heard a word, or seen a hair of Cloudshield, since. Not that I can't go two days without hearing from her. I'm not codependent! I'm just bothered that she didn't ~~attempt~~ make any effort to inform me at t all .
~~No, instead she just leaves me here, and I try for an entire day to get a glimpse of her and don't see her. It's as if she's vanished from Greenstable entirely, which is virtually impossible. I stopped short of going to her workplace because I'm not fond of rebukes and I thought perhaps her superiors were ang~~
It has just occurred to me that this may indeed be the result of our actions previously, atop the guard tower. Perhaps she has been forbidden from speaking to me for a time by her superiors in the Border Guard. I'm uncertain as to how this could occur, but it certainly seems more likely than a sudden and otherwise inexplicable apathy towards me.
I haven't seen her since that night, save for a few brief moments where she came to make the arrangements I mentioned previously. This took place three days prior, two days following our encounter atop the tower.
Oh dear, I'm accidentally rhyming things now. How... Pleasant.
Perhaps, then, I'd benefit from a visit to the Guardship? At the very least, I could confirm my suspicions, which are seeming likelier and likelier with each passing moment. After all, why would she so suddenly decide to bring and end to our relationship? From an intellectual perspective, it seems more unlikely than the sudden and irrevocable end of my existence via lightning strike. After all, the pesasi have no vendetta against me, and neither does Cloudshield.
Unless...
Perhaps I was not permissive enough. Perhaps she desired more physical attentions from me, and I did not allow her to proceed as far as she desired atop the tower. Perhaps my favours, in that respect, were not nearly as pleasant as she'd anticipated.
Perhaps I ought to have let her have her way with me as absolutely as she desired...
Now I am unsure. Certainly, her superiors might be angered by our actions, if indeed they are aware of them. However, it now seems equally likely that Cloudshield herself expected more from me, and is angered at being denied as such.
In either eventuality, I believe my course of action must remain the same. I will go to the Guardship and ascertain the true nature of the situation. From there, I will either... ~~beg her to apologise to~~ request that she apologise to her superiors, or apologise to her myself, depending of course on which of my hypotheses is, in fact, true. Yes, and I think if I must apologise to her, I shall surprise her in her bedroom. I believe that will successfully communicate that I honestly did not intend to deny her access to whatever she desired.
Forever and Irrevocably Hers,
Author's Note
This was perhaps the most enjoyable chapter to actually compose thus far. It's very interesting, getting into Flamehearth's mindset, especially when he thinks differently from how I would.
Twentifourth of Harvest, 189th Greensfounding
Two days ago, after writing the prior entry, I did attempt to visit Cloudshield at the Guardship Tower. She was unavailable, by the word of her superior, Gold Meadow, Captain of the Border Guard. She was “on patrol”, or something like it.
“Would you like to wait for her? She should be back in a few hours. The Border Guard tries not to be inhospitable, especially to those courted by our members.” She was polite.
I accepted her offer, largely due to anxiety. The Guardship Tower, ~~besides having the excellent roof (both for stargazing and other activity) which I was already familiar with,~~ was well furnished. The lowest floor is still well above the ground, situated more than halfway up the border wall.
Gold Meadow and another guardsmare, Ebongaze, seemed company fair enough. They didn't seem to appreciate my presence, but a stallion's presence is appreciated only when appropriate, and I'll admit mine was only marginally so. Still, the mares were very polite, as guardsmares ought to be.
Eventually, the two grew tired of sitting in silence and took up casual conversation. They avoided certain topics, perhaps, seeming altogether uncomfortable at moments.
I was not waiting in such an environment long. After perhaps twenty minutes, Cloudshield and another guardsmare, who I later learned was called Grasswhistle, entered the tower rather unexpectedly. They brought with them a stallion, though he may have been even younger than I. He was skittish, like a frightened colt.
Cloudshield rushed me out of the room (not that I complained). On a walk back to her house, she spoke to me cautiously.
“I apologise for that. Perhaps it would be best if you not speak of it. That stallion was wandering about outside Greenstable. He was delirious, it took us some time to get him inside. No more of that, though, dearest. Guardsmare's business. How are you?”
I answered that I was good. I had just been wondering about the sudden and inexplicable cancellation of our plans.
“I apologise for that as well... Gold Meadow asked me to take extra shifts on patrol. She wants us out in pairs now, even at day, and the timetables for guard duties might be unpredictable for a while.”
At this point, she'd lowered her head. I was unprepared for something such as this; I hadn't meant to cause her ~~grief~~ sorrow. I was only questioning the occurrences, I hadn't intended to place even the slightest inkling of blame on her. Before I could speak again, she embraced me gently.
“If you'd like, dearest, you could simply come to the Guardship Tower on any day of your choosing and wait for me...” she'd said, smiling at me. I smiled back, perhaps despite myself. Her implication was pleasing. “I'm not required for duties until tonight, and even then only well after sundown. Would you appreciate some time with me, love?”
At that word, my emotional state could perhaps be best described as “unbounded ecstasy”. Analogous to a puddle would not, by any means, be an inaccurate assessment, either. She hadn't yet spoken it to me, and the sound of that delightful word was euphonious, to say the very least.
I imagine my expression brightened considerably. We had an early supper with my family, which my father appreciated greatly. To my surprise, Cloudshield asked my herdmothers if I could spend more time with her that evening... I cannot be certain, as they had me leave the room, but I do not think I imagined what I heard in her voice. I do not think I imagined the implication of “nightly activities”.
Whether or not this was her implication, it is indeed what occurred. Herdmother Ivory told Cloudshield that she and I could go wherever she liked, and I am certain of the subtle indication in those words. I was free to be away from home until well past dawn...
Cloudshield led me slowly, meandering towards her house. Initially, it seemed quite unintentional, but as we wandered I became more suspicious of her motives. She and I found our way into the grove of trees alongside the west edge of Greenstable.
Greenstable, surrounded by a circular wall, is relatively large for its size. There may be as many as seventy five herds in our village, but they all dwell in the northern, eastern, and southeastern portions of Greenstable. The west and southwest are instead filled with a well-maintained grove... Perfect for the current purposes of Cloudshield and myself.
The woods are far enough from the ~~clut~~ village centre, and quite large, enough so that there is little chance of us running into anypony. Ponies on strolls through the grove are themselves quite unlikely to meet another pony on the path, and if one strays far enough from the path, meeting another pony would be ~~a once~~ ~~akin to bei~~ so remarkable as to be slightly alarming.
It came as no surprise to me, then, that Cloudshield, walking so close that her tail rested on my flank, led me away from the path and through a thicket. At this point, I was perhaps growing annoyed... And this is in retrospect. I believe, at the time, that I was quite irritated.
Cloudshield wouldn't hear of it. She had me ride on her back, a difficult way to travel in good conditions. In this bramble, I can only imagine her difficulty. ~~Yet after a while,~~ It didn't take long, despite any difficulty, for us to come to a little clearing, barely large enough for six ponies, but pleasantly roomy for two lovers.
By this time, it was nearly sundown. With the leaves acting as filters, (though not for much longer- It is Harvest, and Leafsfall Day comes fast) the wood seemed very dark indeed. ~~A pleasing precocious dusk, a pleasant precursor to a period of pleasure.~~
We lay under the shade of a tree. It was unbelievably comfortable there, entwined with my lover and kept safe in her hooves... Hooves that were, to my excitement, moving as if they possessed their own minds.
Positioned as we were, with my head resting at the base of her neck, I could not look my lover in the eyes, but I believe I imagined her expression accurately- One of love, aggressive love, with an urge to possess, to own, to have me.
She certainly demonstrating such aggression. Her hooves moved lower and lower, exploring what little had remained unexplored after our ~~pri~~ impromptu moment of passion atop the Guardship Tower. Soon, her aggressive urges, the urges to own her stallion, could have seemed fulfilled. She had familiarised herself with her stallion, her herdmate.
Yet, to my still-present delight, she did not feel satisfied even then. ~~To recall detail would be diffi~~ ~~I cer~~
Regardless of how it happened, ignoring the wonderful minutae of the events immediately before and indeed after-
“Rut me,” Cloudshield growled, almost angrily.
I obliged. I think I did so wordlessly, in fact.
It was an ecstatic bit of spontaneity for the pair of us, though I ~~am~~ have suspicions that it was too short-lived a moment for her liking.
We stayed there a while, collapsed in sweat and the remains of a heated moment. Eventually, after an eternity that, if I were honest, was too brief, she lifted me again. I protested, claimed that I could manage my own way, but Cloudshield insisted. She always insisted.
I slept in her bed that night, she was holding me... It was wonderful. Quite possibly my favourite memory in recent years. I woke up, turning around, and she was gone, of course. She'd left in the middle of the night, without waking me, to guard Greenstable. Before I'd gotten all the way out of bed, however, she'd returned and made me breakfast to eat in her bed. She wouldn't let me go home until well after the sun had passed its midpoint in the sky. A glorious day, certainly... An intimate one. Again, one of my favourites now.
Happily In Love,
Flamehearth
Author's Note
First chapter that's more than borderline NSFW, YAY! Been an awfully long time since I wrote the last one, but it's still a labour of love, not a job. And I hope you all enjoy.
Thirtisecond of Harvest, 189th Greensfounding
Today was unexpectedly fulfilling.
I hadn't explicitly intended a day with Clousdshield, but since my every day for quite a few days past has been spent with her (and all but one of my evenings, and three of my nights, as well), I woke up with that assumption, that this day would be ~~more of the same.~~ a continuance of those delights. My father, Hearthtrust, did not waste a single second in delay, making haste to inform me otherwise, to my anger and, I assumed, eventual heartwrenching dismay.
I had desired to spend the day waiting for her availability, likely in or around the Guardship Tower. This I wished to do for however long I was required, or allowed, depending on how I chose to perceive it.
I have found my time spent in wait of my lover both agonising and delightful. I am blessed with more time than I could ever have asked for in which to fantasise idly about her; about walking with her or spending ~~hours~~ days on end held in her forelegs, comforted and attended and given affections, or even (on occasion, that is, certainly with less frequency than any other idle thoughts, but still, I must confess) time spent together as an entwined pair composed, in order of significance, of beating hearts, tangled limbs, and ecstatic sighs.
Yes, I intended to spend a portion of my day alone, with Cloudshield in my thoughts, and then the remainder of the day with Cloudshield herself, doing whatever we pleased.
Instead, my father, with the approval of my mothers (though I believe rather tacitly, in Herdmother Ivory's case), demanded that I spend several hours with him. We helped tend the fields nearby. It was my first time doing work outdoors, save perhaps carrying a small barrel back and forth as a small colt.
~~At first~~ For the greater part of the day, it was beyond tedious. It was excruciating, finishing the last of the preparations for the Harvest. Tomorrow is Leafsfall Day, and that means the Harvestfeast. After that, the Harvest itself begins in earnest.
The work was initially varied, requiring the constant attention of my irritated mind. After an hour, perhaps two, however, father found me something I was good at. Not that I performed poorly at anything, but rather that, at this task, I excelled without effort. Every Harvest, we dig up new storage cellars, move the wood flooring from the old cellars, and fill the old ones full of the dirt from the new ones, for freshness or something of that nature. Mundane work, completely mundane work, and under any other circumstance I would be very unsatisfied with the work's mundane nature.
At this point, though, to my delight, I was able to fall into a rhythm, physically, and from there I could simply let my body work as my mind wandered freely... For a while, I was concerned that my idle thoughts of time with Cloudshield would be noticed. It only took a cursory glance around to assuage my worries. It seems that many (if not most) stallions take similar measures to busying their minds while their hooves work.
By day's end, I was physically exhausted and feeling significantly more lustful than I recall feeling at any single moment in my life. I was very pleased, upon returning home, to see Cloudshield enjoying a drink with my mothers, chatting about something.
They're discussing something right now, which requires my absence. Irritating, perhaps, but understandable, and acceptable, as following their discussion and a short meal, Cloudshield will be escorting me to her home for the evening. The whole evening, until well after dawn.
Ecstatic,
Author's Note
Discontinuing the main plot for a "chapter" let me just play with the character and get in his head again. It's not much, but it does something for me, so here you go. So yeah, enjoy his wangst.