Şahin had grown lax.

It happened when he wandered through the middle part of his territory, forsaking the beach for the first time in a long time, and he discovered the unmistakable scent of another stallion in his home. He stopped and jerked his head up a notch higher, flaring his nostrils to take in the scent better, and gave a light snort when he confirmed it for himself. His first reaction was irritation, but that was quickly replaced by a flood of bitter unsurprise.

He had a good home and a good herd. Paradise it was, in both name and fact. He and the mares and the children had lived together relatively undisturbed for over three years, and Şahin’s guard was low. He patrolled but did not make a large effort to mark his borders, and hadn’t really given much thought to the possibility of what would happen if another encroached on his home.

Şahin was fifteen. He didn’t particularly care to fight, not unless he had to, and so he shook out his mane and set out to find the owner of the new scent in his territory. Best to see the other stallion face to face and see if some other arrangement could be made before leaping immediately into physical aggression. Horses could be so impulsive sometimes.

The Nez Perce bugled a call to the other male and kept up his steady trot.