Vodnik has been mighty ruler of these impressive lands for two seasons now. He thought being king of the hill, literally and metaphorically, would help satiate the hunger inside, but it has not. Vodnik is as restless as ever. He wants more. He is not satisfied with what mares he has, and glory has not been won with the territory alone. He considers stealing or challenging for more mares, or moving to conquer the entire island, but a rational part of his mind tells him this is not what he needs.

But what does he need? Vodnik doesn't know.

The ridge is teeming with life. Spring brings new new blooms. Grasses grow tall, and baby animals of every kind are appearing all over the mountain sides, baby animals of all kinds, except foals.

Vodnik has sired at least twenty foals in his lifetime. This would be his first year since maturity that he has not covered a mare. He is not upset about this, as he's never seen the births of any of his foals, nor been involved in their rearing at all. He is, however, bothered by the silence. Voices of every species but horse can be heard echoing between his peaks, but equine life on the ridge is quiet. Coming from a rowdy, bachelor band, Vodnik is made uneasy by the lack of activity. He is bored, agitated, and even worried, but he's not sure what he should be worried about.

Restless wandering sends the large stallion crashing through thick undergrowth in search of anyone. Long tendrils of thorny plants grab at his thick, feathered legs, but he presses on, and on, and on. Vodnik finds no one until the sun sinks low in the sky. He breaks free of his forest's grabbing hands, and moving silently along the shoreline is the dark shape of his second in command, Anonymous.

Vodnik is not choosy about his company now. Yes, some company of the feminine sort might be preferred, but he doesn't hesitate to approach the other stallion now. Long strides close the gap between them. Vodnik makes no effort to soften the profound thud of each heavy step. He is not looking to sneak up on Anonymous. His ears are forward, and his posture non-aggressive, but his dark eyes betray no particular emotion.

Pulling up alongside the other, Vodnik decides to speak. "Hello, Anonymous." There is no malice, or hidden meaning in his words. It is only a greeting.