In a territory where mares are rare, a pair of feet like these would be required among all stallions.

I’m not into colts feet, but this thick and tender soles send me into raptures. In addition braeburn is a nice character so the liking goes up.  
I would love to see more barefooted themed drawings on him, maybe even while torture them, and a background like that of the old west opens up to many of these possibilities (as the fan fiction shows in the comments).

Dayum. I hope arcadias also colors the king sombra pic one day!

Braeburn: Ufffffhhh, what a tiring work day, I need absolutely a break! But first… take off these boots and socks, my feet are going to kill me; Ohhhhh yeaaaaaahhhhh, wath a wonderful feeling, the fresh air on my poor sweaty and hot soles, mmmmhhh… and already there are, I do well a snack “chomp!” MMMMMHHHH, This apples are delicious! Ah, what a wonderful day: sun, apple-trees, fresh air, barefoot, juicy apples, flying arrows; How could go wrong this… Hey, what a minute I said, flying arrows?
 
The young colt looked up and saw his hat nailed to the tree by an arrow, a buffalo arrow. 
The sweat on his body grew cold quickly, and swallowing he dropped the apple from his hand. Other four arrows were shoot on his boots, nailing them to the tree. 
The young colt, realizing immediately the situation, got up and started running barefoot among the apple orchards. He was so young, it was a beautiful day, he didn’t want to be killed by the buffalo, or worse to be taken alive by them. He had only a few meters, which is an arrow planted in front of his toes forcing it to retreat; but also behind his heels he felt sticking an arrow in the ground. 
Then he stood in the middle of the two arrows, trying to see his attackers through the trees or on the rocks, but could not see anything. Now he was there, alone, unarmed, defenseless and barefoot; He hated being barefoot in the middle of a danger It made him feel like an inexperienced filly. He was still there, and meanwhile he thought “Come on, quick! Kill me or show yourself!”. At that time they showed, were five warriors, tall and strong; all armed with bows, arrows, tomahawks and with war paint on their faces. 
Braeburn, trying to keep calm swallowed hard, forcing to stay upright, shrugging his shoulders, while the big toe his right foot instinctively put above that of the left foot (sign that he was afraid).
 
Breaburn: I - I surrrender to you buffalo warroirs, I do not have bad intentions! Just tell me why this aggression, we are not at war, I was just picking apples and resting.
 
the chief stepped forward and said:
 
Chief Thunderhooves: You Appleloosans ponies have desecrated our stampeding grounds, you promised to take them off but that was not done! Now we decided to go on the warpath, and you young barefooted pony that tremble like a leaf, are the first… Grab him! 
Breaburn: No, no, no!!! There should not be a war between us, let me, let me go back to town and will arrange everything! I will talk with my cousin and the sheriff. 
Chief Thunderhooves: Ponies do not tell the truth, you have a forked tongue! The great spirit was generous to deliver you to us as a hunting prey, and we will not come unless the old customs. Tie him to that dead tree. 
Beaburn: No, no, no… Let me go, Let me go, no!!!
 
Beaburn was tied to a dead tree trunk without branches; in the meantime Buffalos began to collect dry branches, brushwood and old bark. 
Beaburn quickly realized their intentions, that bisons were going to burn him alive, but he did not understand their method. 
The bark is carefully placed on the soles of his feet, the brush between his toes and around the feet; while the dry and dusty wood complete the rest.
 
Breaburn: You damn savages, you can’t burn me alive without a good reason! I’m a prisioner, you can’t kill me, and in this barbaric way! 
Chief Thunderhooves:It will not be the fire to kill you! 
Breaburn: What… ???
 
He did not have time to finish the sentence, the fire was lit, and Buffalos started to dance around him! Breaburn It writhes trying to rip the strings,cursing and screaming while a thread of smoke rising from burning. 
At some point he began to feel something between his toes, were the weeds that were beginning to burn and created severe pain; Then, began to ignite the bark that was under his feet. He desperately tried to step on it to turn it off, but it was useless; sweat under his soles made so that some pieces were being hung right there, and continued to burn until it became embers giving him further discomfort. 
Buffalos certainly they knew how to torture a victim without killing immediately, and the fact that he had very soft and delicate feet (despite the hard work), as well as aching, made it all the more terrible. 
Poor Beaburn, who knows if the Appellose posse would have saved him?

I friggin’ love Braeburn and his cute feets. <3

Mmmhh it got colored, one of my favorite piece from this artist. <3

<3