The dry season had come to Paradise, therefore the rain had stopped, but the land was still lush. Ailill’s gold painted body basked in the afternoon sun as if letting its rays dry him from various swims or dances in the light showers that still sprinkled down on the forests. He was for all the world at peace in a little clearing he had come to favor when the mood struck him to stray away from the river that ran through his territory. Unperturbed, he lifted his head at a distant sound coming from the beach. An ear flicked curiously. The sounds were not greeting, nor challenging and did not seem like anything he needed to investigate. Since his home had seemed to become decidedly empty, he did not feel the need to go charging after every sound that echoed through the foliage.

His attention follows the crashes and sounds of the mare rummaging through the trees, unsure of how exactly he felt about what was sure to befall him. The mare had made it clear he was merely ‘there’. An accessory much like the flowers that bloomed year round in the canopy. He was easily ignored to her and so he did not much care if he pleased her or not. Shararat, however, was an entirely different story. Her happiness was a craving he could not state. Knowing she had broken free of her mother’s constraints brought a wicked smile of pleasure to his pale lips. His true goal had been achieved and he would hold that with him forever. And so, when Iftikar stomped into his sunlit clearing he met her pleasantly with a feigned mild expression on his face.

Missing something? He asked pleasantly, his tail swishing behind him. In his grin it was clear he was poking a bear and he knew it. The stallion dared not lower his head to munch on the deliciousness at his feet for fear he would meet her hoof. Experience told him such an encounter would sting.