[Solo] A Contemplation on Grass (Discord)

[one over three]

An early summer’s day. Discord takes a bite of grass and chews thoughtfully. He could eat other things, fruits and vegetables, fish and meat, but today he chose to chomp down on grass. The tender grass from early spring was now long gone and he found himself chewing on the stringy older stalks that had taken over the fields. It wasn’t all bad though. Littered through the grass were thousands of varieties of small plants, weeds, and flowers that all added their unique flavours to the endless salad buffet before him. Often he closed his eyes as he grazed, trying to guess what plant or plants he had just bitten into as he tore through them with sharp canines and mashed them up with his strong molars. A few times he paused to spit out a particularly bitter weed, other times he caught the flavour of a plant he knew to have thick and delicious roots. When he found one of those plants he would pause to dig it up. Whether it was added to a basket to bring home and store for later or eaten on the spot usually depended on just how much dirt came up with it. Most of the time they were fated for the basket.

As he cleared the spot directly in front of him he moved on taking only small and casual steps forward with his mismatched feet. Few others seemed to ever visit this field so he had all the time in the world to bask in the sun and take in the flavours. He bit down on a dandelion then paused to clear out the vegetation around it to get at the root. These, he felt, where particularly good after roasting them over a fire and soaking the resulting slightly charred chunks in hot water. It made a bitter drink that caused most who tried it for the first time to scrunch up their faces in disgust. This one, though, proved to be too small to roast properly when he pulled it out of the soft ground. After knocking most of the dirt off he tossed it back on to the grass before taking a bite of it, along with the grass beneath it.

There seemed to be relativity few insects mixed in with the weeds today. A few grasshoppers here and there were always a nice treat when enjoying his grassy meals. An unexpected moment of crunch and gush to really compliment those greens was always welcome and he couldn’t help but wonder where wall the grasshoppers were. Had they just not come out yet this time of year? Had they learned to avoid his little field? He continued grazing, mind wandering to thoughts of the practicality of raising grasshoppers.  

[one over three]

The sun was setting on Discord’s field and the worst of the midsummer bugs were out to feast on whatever tender flesh made it’s self available to them. The mixes tail flicked about as he grazed, slapping black flies and mosquitoes as they attempted to take their place in the circle of life, and then, thanks to his tail, ended up as fertilizer for the grass. And then he ate the grass. And probably some of the bugs too. It wasn’t the cleanest system imaginable. Most of the grass had given way to the taller weeds now. This wasn’t a fact that bothered Discord in the slightest. Grass was fine and all but those weeds really were where most of the flavour and variety came from.

Biting into a prickly plant always seemed to be something he should have been more prepared for but never was. Other than a short lived sting he didn’t really mind it all that much. Some of the prickly plants even had a sweetness too them he quite enjoyed. Sweet and spicy, fantastic. Now that they were getting bigger there were a few plants he avoided. These were ones that he knew would grow delicious flowers or eventually even fruits or berries that would provide him with a far nicer meal then they ever could at this stage. It wasn’t farming, this field wasn’t really for farming after all, but it never hurt to do some small planning ahead and conserving. He paused to dig up the root of a queen anne’s lace. A small carrot like root on an otherwise fairly bitter plant. Thick enough to save. It went in his basket.

A few mice scurried out of the grass, trying to avoid his chompers as he made short work of the greenery hiding their little home. It seemed to take longer too chew as they moved into the summer. The grass and other plants was all so much tougher and stringier. Some of them already having loose, dried up sheaths of plant matter encasing their bases. Bits of plant left over from their earlier growing season that they had largely grown out of and could now live without. Maybe it helped protect their stalks from bugs. It didn’t help them protect their stalks from Discord’s sharp teeth.

He chomped through patch after patch, his mind wandering a little as he wondered if any of the grasses and herbs he was casually destroying would taste better once dried or cooked in some novel way. Despite these lingering thoughts he never paused to pluck anything for experimentation. He wasn’t really in the mood for experiments. He was in the mood for more of the soft, crunchy, gushy, and sometimes sweet field salad in front of him.  

[one over three]

It’s early morning. The dew on the grass is giving it a delightfully refreshing taste to the plants he’s ripping up by the mouthful. He’s particularly hungry today. The bugs had been terrible the night before and it had prevented him from getting a real meal in before bed. Despite being covered in scales and fur the bugs still did their damnedest to have their way when it cames to biting him.

Now in the early morning hours the bugs left him more or less alone. The sun was still on the horizon, it wouldn’t raise it’s self high enough to subjugate the creatures of the earth with it’s heat for hours yet. The sweet dew would also be long gone from the petals and leaves of the fields by then too. Part of him wondered why he didn’t come out to the field in the early morning like this more often. Of course, like anyone who was accustomed to grazing late into the evening the answer was an obvious one. Not coming to it nearly even took conscious effort.

A small bird picked at the ground nearby for a few moments before flying away with a fat worm in it’s beak. While it was still pecking the hybrid took a moment to consider grabbing it as it flew away for a nice protein snack to go with his delicious and varied salad but when it came time to make his move he didn’t even bother lifting his head from the grass. There would be other birds other times, after all. He came across a new breed of grass just then. One uncommon in the field and one he hoped wouldn’t spread. It was a dense, thick blade with a particularly strong scent but none of the sweetness other grasses provided. He ate it anyways, right down to the earth, before digging up it’s roots and throwing them out on top of a nearby patch of grass. When the sun came out in full it would dry them out and with any amount of luck, prevent that particular plant from finding home in this soil. Sure this wasn’t farm land, but that was no reason he couldn’t make a small effort to keep it clear of unwelcome grass varieties. For the rest of the morning he remained on guard, eating and pulling up any clumps of the offending grass that caught his eye. By the time the dew started to evaporate from the field he had cleared thirteen clumps of grass and was now quite full. It would be an ongoing effort but if he could keep it under control he would be able to enjoy the fruits of his labour well into the fall.  

[one over three]

The air was full of the smell of fruit now. More would be coming in the following weeks but still Discord worked away at his grass. There had still been zero other horses seen in the area and that was all well and good as far as he was concerned. This was his field and he absolutely did not want to share his sweet, sweet grass and weeds with anybody. The dandelions had more or less vanished by now. He had made short of the ones he did find, digging them up so that he could roast and prep their roots at home for that delicious dark beverage he so favoured. There had been a few attempts at drying herbs as well. Dandelions dried horribly. It was still up for debate as to why the heck he thought that particular experiment would be a good idea.

He took a bite of chamomile, really savouring it as he chewed. Perhaps chamomile would be nice chopped up with some fruit. He took another bite. Or… Or he could just eat the whole plant right here and now and not worry about all that extra fuss of preparing anything. He took a third bite, and a fourth. By the fifth there was so little left of the chamomile that it was doubtful the small plant would be able to recover. No bother. There were always a few dozen chamomiles growing in this field. And if he really started to notice a decline he knew where to find more seeds. Finding seeds was simple. There were so, so many seeds. If the stalks had begun to grow tough in the months prior they really had reached peek toughness now that autumn was approaching. The woody varieties had all since grown that rough bark intended to help get them through winter. The best pickings these days were the plants that had no intention on coming back the following year. They remained tender fall longer and often had the juiciest flowers crowning them.

The insects were beginning to come out full force now too. Many of the species would die out over the winter and that meant this was their last chance to really get the last generation going. If Discord knew what croutons were he would have compared the bugs that littered his field to the crispy little chunks of bread.

The smell of a nearby apple orchard drafted past him on the wind. The trees would be bearing small fruits now. Nothing all that impressive but soon enough they would have fruits large enough to be worth his while. There were always so many delicious treats to look forward too come fall. He could barely wait.  

[one over three]

The smell of apples was overwhelming now, but Discord kept munching away at his most precious of fields. The apples were tempting and sweet but fall brought with it an urgency that worried at his bones. Winter was coming. Not yet, not even really soon, but it was coming. The winds would bring the cold and the snow and all his most precious grass would be buried. Apples could be collected and stored but grass was fleeting. It would only last so long as the gods who blew the winds allowed. So, again today, he shunned apples and spent his afternoon mowing the grass.

He considered for a moment how nice it would be to have an apple tree growing in this field as well. Not one to harvest but one that only existed to drop it’s sweet fruits for the improvement of his fall grazing. Perhaps though, having that touch of intense sweetness would be too much of a temptation. Getting that little taste could lead him astray from his much less sweet grasses and weeds. The grass always seemed far less sweet this time of year, after all. He wasn’t sure if he was just getting used to the flavour or if the flavour faded as the plants matured and put their focus into growing their flowers, fruits and seeds. It was possible. But if that was a case would it be better to harvest the newest sprouts from plants for drying? He had had a few successes with drying plants over the last few months, but more failures. Few things, it turned out, retained it’s value when left to deteriorate and loose moisture for weeks or months. Maybe there was a way to counteract this but at the end of the day he didn’t really care. Not then at least.

If there was something he really liked once it was dried he would consider sharing, or selling, the information to people who did care. It didn’t really matter. There were few things he liked to make himself and most the time he was content just doing his daily foraging as a way to keep his head above the proverbial water and meet his caloric needs. Something deep inside him felt a little bit of irony at the plainness of his life but he didn’t let it bother him for long. There was no way an odd little feeling coming out of nowhere for no reason would or could keep him from enjoying what he had right before him. The bushes at the edge of the field had been nearly picked clean by now. But that was ok, he had more or less gotten his fill of those. The only thing he really started to miss was the bugs.