Don ambled through the grass, enjoying the soft brush of the stalks by the knees of his centaur shape and the warm touch of the sun on his bare torso. Summer was his favorite season; fall and winter were too cold for lazing about outside and spring left him with the itchy feeling that he ought to be easing his herd through their time in season. Instinct didn't care that his herd didn't need that sort of care.
Glancing to his left, Don let his eyes trail over Mac and wondered if he felt that spring urgency. He suspected not; Mac was the most laid back stallion Don had ever met.
That suited Don just fine. If Mac wasn't, they wouldn't be here, enjoying the scent of life in full bloom and letting their equine bodies bump gently against each other occasionally.
Mac caught him looking and tilted his head. "Want to go for a run?"
"Nah," Don said. "There's a clearing inside that cluster of trees," he nodded up ahead. "I'm thinking a nap is in order."
Stretched out on the grass in human shape, Don clasped Mac's hand in his and drifted on the edge of sleep.