Can’t go back, I’m haunted
There are few things that cause Fatalé to interrupt a grooming session. Grooming was important to the bay. Appearance was 90% of any social interaction. As was keeping poise and control of any conversation. Horses, though, responded better to a well-kept mare than to one who cared nothing for themselves. But, the scent that wafted her direction was reason to interrupt it. She turned to Rogue and issued a quick order. She hoped Rogue would actually listen.
In the meantime, however, Fatalé had someone to see.
He’d been avoiding her. That was the only explanation. And today, she’d caught his scent. The roan king of the Lagoon was going to be taking her meeting.
She moved through the underbrush and avoided the pools. She spotted the roan in a grove. Her ears flicked back. Her eyes narrowed.
“Rade,” She stated. It wasn’t a greeting. It was a fact. She surged forward, closing the distance quickly. The arabian had questions that needed answers.
mare : nine : arabian : wild bay : 14.2 hh : lagoon : mother of three