The last drops of rain slid off of the fading leaves and hit the ground below, collecting into a little puddle at Arem's hooves. The sunlight that was begining to strain its way through the light grey clouds and the canopy hit the edge of the puddle and the wettened leaves that covered the forest floor. The forest around the mixed-breed stallion was silent, but not in an eery way. While everything recently had been wild and chaotic, the rain seemed to have quieted everything down, washing away the blood a good rain should. The forest couldn't seem to decide, as a collective, how it felt about the season: Here a tree was nearly bare, here a tree (despite the lateness of the season) nearly full of yellow-orange leaves, here one was still as green as it ever would be.

Arem sniffed the air as he stepped out from underneath the tree; it was full of the smell of clean earth. He stood for a moment staring up at the light through the canopy, and grinned. He had been stopped by the sudden shower mid-run; now it looked like he could continue. He was only a little wet, his mane and ruff only dappled with the dark traces of rain that had yet to dry. On his pale blue body, the raindrops had slid down in a pattern not unlike the odd stripe here and there, ending abruptly where he had shook away the drops. The raindrops still clinging to his horn made it seem like some dark jewel, catching the light off of strange new facets. He shook again, and sent them scattering.

He tested the ground with his forehoof, causing a few leaves to slide away from him. The added slickness of the wet leaves would just make it a bit of a fun challenge. For a day in fall, a day in a rough fall, he felt good. He glanced upward again, for no good reason but to see the sun: in a moment, he'd start again. For now, he just took a deep breath inward.