It was obvious that Ailill’s youth and inexperience would leave him at an extreme disadvantage. All cards were stacked against the young stallion. He knew it as his hooves flailed nearly uselessly against Vodnick’s massive body. Very quickly he lost faith in his ability to drive off the bigger stallion. Stubborn still and light eyes flashing, he twisted away from his foe. He kept his head held high, neck arched proudly even in his obvious defeat. He snorted and stomped his hoof harshly in the sandy beach. Why? He snapped. What is she to you? Is she some trading tool? A broodmare to make you many little babies? Ailill knew how most stallions looked at the mares they collected into their herds. They were nothing but a means to an end. The Peak had trained him to think differently towards the fairer sex. No matter the twists of life and fate, he would do what he could to uphold the honor of those he danced with, even if it would take time.

What if she did not want to come with you? Would you force her against her will? Ailill’s eyes blazed with a vengeance he had not earned. Are you a monster that will rape with within your borders? He breathed heavy and deep. Depending on the answers that were given, he would give his life to defend the mare he had come to care about, the mare who had only wanted to help him and watch him grow. He knew full well that he could die at Vodnick’s hooves. And so he would if the stallion truly decided to press forward with cruel intent.

Eyes wide and ears laced back in his pale mane, Ailill stepped between the draft and the rest of Paradise, clearly willing to continue to defend his land if that was the route this conversation was to take.