I am the razor in the hands of your heart;
And I am the razor in the hands of God.
Boys are stupid. If Evaline had learned anything during the 15 years she'd spent on this earth, it was that stallions of any age, were wildly dumb. So when her son attempted to sneak away under some misplaced pretense of stealth, the palomino matriarch of the Prairie merely rolled her eyes, chocolate colored orbs watching as her gangly colt trotted off into the brush.
The dainty mare hesitated, chewing what was likely the last of the Prairie's lush grass before winter, savoring the taste, then slowly ambled after her mischievous son. She knew her time with him was ending. All too quickly, the red-haired foal had morphed into a grown stud. He towered over her for months now, and with his height came muscle and thickness of his body. Evaline rarely revisited memories of Shamwari's father, but she was reminded of him every day as their son filled out. He resembled the fresian stud, Rook, more and more as the days wore on.
Soon Shamwari would be too old to remain in the Prairie. And Evaline was aware of the deal Valentine had made with the Lagoon. Her colt was to be shipped off to live among the degenerates. The idea didn't sit so well in Evaline's gut.
Shamwari's trail led her into the Forest. She knew the bordering terrain from brief visits during a stint in the islands from years' past. But she did not know who ruled over the terrain in current times. As far as she was aware, Valentine had no alliance with the herd here. But it didn't matter if he did or not. The moment the mare's eyes locked onto that of the aggressive stud standing before her son, instinct kicked in.
Evaline jutted forth, quickly pushing her son aside with some deal of force and fearlessly stepped into the face of the towering stallion. Golden lobes lay flat against her poll, buried underneath the wavy locks of the mare's blonde mane. "You'd best watch your tone." She spat, barring two rows of yellowed, blunt teeth at the stallion. Evaline was hardly afraid of him. "We are merely your neighbors, just passing through. I'd hate to tell Valentine, leader of the Prairie, how rudely you treated his lead mare and child."
15 | Arabian cross |14.2 | Palomino | Mother of Kasabian, Shamwari | Vinyl |