Picturesque

[megan]

Lake Claire was possibly the most beautiful part of Silas Academy, especially in the summer. The afternoon sun danced on the surface of water so clear it could have been glass. Flowers and trees added a bit of color, and the lilies were downright spectacular. It was a favorite spot for picnics or just lounging with a good book. One student was even asleep in the grass, face buried beneath his backpack and bare feet soaking in the relatively still waters.

Megan had to smile at that, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear before turning back to her reason for being at the lake. It was quite possibly her favorite spot on campus (aside from the stables of course). Most of her free time was spent out here, enjoying the the wonderful openness that was nature. As per usual her easel was set up, a large canvas carefully clipped to it. Acrylic paint covered not only her image but also her hands, arms, clothing, and there was even a streak of green smudged across her face. The young woman had never been the neatest of painters when it came to her surrounding area, but the final product was always something she deemed spectacular.

Now was no different, for the most part. For once she was actually painting what she physically saw rather than the skewed, futuristic visions that liked to imprint onto her subconscious. The canvas was covered from top to bottom in a number of blues, greens, and other earthly tones. At the moment it was only a rough impression though; she had a long way to go before she declared it finished.

Wiping her hands on a colorfully stained rag, she set her brushes in a cup of murky water and decided now was as good a time as any for lunch. She could use the break, and now that it was past noon more students were beginning to make their way outside (having spent most of the Sunday morning asleep most likely). The peaceful sounds of nature were taking on a different sort of rhythm, one of voices and cheers and a game of Ultimate Frisbee. Fishing a salami and cheese sandwich out of her backpack, she sat herself down next to her work and relaxed, enjoying the changes time had brought while satisfying her hungry stomach.

[mason]

MASON

The Percheron Draft's flanks and shoulders were slick with sweat as Mason strutted the filly along one of many riverside paths that Lake Clair had to offer. Her coat was a deep grey in color, dappled with blue spots. She was a beautiful specimen of her breed, blue mane dancing like a banner in the warm afternoon air.

A rough hand reached out to pat her neck, she had done well, carrying him around in this heat. He bought the filly to a halt, the dirt crunching slightly as his feet hit the ground. Mason then proceeded to walk her along, off the path and into the never ending fields. He let go of her halter lead, letting her wander on her own. She never went far, and even so, one little whistle from Mason and she came trotting back. He'd had the filly since she was a foul, he had rescued her from a breeding farm. From that day they had had a strong bond, and if Silas hadn't allowed her to come with him, he wouldn't be working there today.

Masons own blue singlet was a little damp with sweat, a small patch gathering on his chest area. He pulled at it roughly, unsticking the material from his body. He walked through the tall grasses casually, one eye on the filly and the other taking in the scenery. He'd been out here a few times, and each time always captivated him. It was the pure picture of serenity, and one of these days, the Geology Professor would bask in the cool, inviting waters of the lake. In fact, it looked pretty good right now.

A cheeky smile lingered on his features at the thought, but he decided against it. So lost in his own thoughts, Mason hadn't seen one of his fellow Professors, relaxing on a small hill a little way off from him. Nor anyone else that drifted here and there. Stretching out, he let a lazy yawn fill the air, emerald eyes wandering back to his grazing filly.

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[megan]

The one thing about a good sandwich was that there never seemed to be enough of it. Long before she was ready for lunch to be over, it seemed that her sandwich was gone. With a sigh she fished out her water bottle and the apple she'd packed for a snack. Might as well go the whole nine yards and eat everything now. Next time she'd just have to pinch more food from the kitchens before deciding to start a new project.

Apparently she'd have to pilfer a few more apples as well, because she'd barely taken two bites of the shiny red gem when it attracted some peculiar attention. A rather gorgeous looking draft was making its way towards her, practically prancing as it eyed her treat. Amused, Megen pushed herself to her feet, approaching the filly with an outstretched hand. The last few steps she let the Percheron make, her empty hand being snuffed by a hungry, velvety snout.

"There's a good girl," she cooed, running her hand gently up the mare's nose before stroking her along the cheek. With her other hand she held up what remained of her apple, giving the sweet horse the treat. Laughter tricked from her as her hand was slobbered upon. So much for the rest of her lunch, but given how much time she spent at the stables she could say with certainty that it was worth it. "Yes, you like that don't ya, pretty girl? Now where's your papa? You shouldn't be wandering so far on your own."

Still petting the gentle giant, Megan let her eyes wander about their surroundings, looking for a specific someone. It could easily be said that she knew the horses of Silas Academy better than she knew their owners or riders. For instance, she knew that this Percheron belong to Professor Wilde, but she had only talked to the man a handful of times since she'd started working at the school. It was a large school, after all, and sometimes schedules just did not line up.

[mason]

MASON

The filly had lost Mason's attention a few minutes ago, his burly form bent over to inspect a lonesome flower growing in the field. It's orange hued petals were striking to behold, and he peered around to see if there were anymore. As he shuffled around, an immense happiness washed over him, but it was not of his own.

Peering over the swaying grass, Mason spied his filly receiving a rather tasty treat from one of the other Professors that worked at the Academy. It was Professor Zamorski, a lovely lady he had met a handful of times down at the stable. It seemed she like animals as much as he did. With a warm smile and a relaxed wave in greeting, Mason headed over to the pair.

"I see you've finally met my little girl."

He half chucked, whistling softly to draw the filly over to him.

"What are you doing little Miss? Trading some snuggles for this sweet ladies lunch hmmn?"

He chuckled a little firmer this time, letting one thick hand stroke the filly's neck. He then turned his attention back to Megan, that warm smile ever vigilant. He wondered for a brief moment what she was doing out here, perhaps just getting away from the hustle and bustle like himself. It was the perfect place for a moment of peace, and he had no doubt that he wasn't the only one that knew that.

"How are you, Miss Zamorski? The start of the new year treating you well I do hope?"

He nodded, fiddling with the filly's mouth as she nibbled at his fingers, searching for more tasty treats. Luckily for her, he had come prepared. Reaching into his right pocket, Mason pulled out a firm carrot. He brushed off some sparse pant material before giving it to her, another hand stroking her face contently.

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[megan]

Her hands ran gently over the draft's cheeks and thick neck, sometimes reaching up to scratch at an ear. She was still cooing at the horse when Professor Mason eventually joined them, pulling the filly's attention away from seeking out a second apple she just didn't have. She grinned at him, one hand resting itself on her hip now that she wasn't petting the Perch. The other hand tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she returned his friendly greeting.

"You can call me Megan, you know. Miss Zamorski is just so... formal." She chuckled. Megan and formalities were about as hand in hand as a porcupine and a hug. She was by far one of the most laid back professors at Silas, even insisting her students call her by her first name over anything else. Things just felt more natural that way, and she preferred naturalism to formalities about nine times out of ten. Why act like cold acquaintances when they could all be warm friends?

"Term seems to be going well so far. No major accidents yet, though I suppose it's only a matter of time. Have anyone blow up one of your classes yet?" She moved a little closer, stretching out a hand to pet the filly again. The pretty dapple gray was just too hard to resist; animals had always been a weakness of her's. The fact that her house looked like a small zoo was a clear testament to that, given the two dogs, cat, rabbit hutch, and large, salt water fish tank that was visible from one of the front windows. At one point she'd even tried to keep a chicken, but the results of that little experiment had been a little less successful and a little more disastrous. Megan just did not have a knack for raising birds.