The Kawani was in the heart of summer, and Zophiel had taken it on himself to wander away from The Grove. With four other brothers--some of whom were quite rambunctious indeed--Zophiel often stole away to recharge. He liked to be able to hear himself think, and some of the games his brothers played were a little too rough and tumble for Zophiel. He loved his family dearly, of course, but he was far shier and a bit more gentle than some of his brothers. They could, admittedly, be a little overwhelming. The little colt never went too far from home when he did steal away--he was still too much of a coward for that--but he liked to listen to the birds, stretch his wings, and let his imagination run wild on his own terms.
Logically, he knew his mother wasn't very far--she would have never let him truly roam alone, not when he was still so young--but she had given him space, and time, and Zophiel was grateful. Trotting through the foliage of the forest, he paused now and then to nibble at a few grasses, or pull his spiked tail out of whatever plant he managed to get it tangled in. It wasn't easy having a tail adorned with spikes while living in the woods of the mountain--but he was learning how to carry it, and how to untangle it--with every passing day.
He let his imagination roam, and paused to press his horn against the trunk of a tree. "Don't you worry--I'll heal you!" He assured, pretending it was some soquili in great need. He'd helped his mother heal some of his brothers when their body spikes caught one another, but Zophiel had hopes of becoming a true healer someday. He was, admittedly, not very good at healing yet--but he knew if he practiced everyday he'd get better.... even if there was nothing for him to truly heal or help.