For a mare that wished to be free of shackles, she had come to the wrong place.
Ruger had not come with the intentions of taking someone home, but rather just to get away. A breath of fresh air before he went back home and faced the continued drama that made up the Islands. But when he saw the bay mare dressed in white stockings and face, he couldn’t help but feel interested. Later he could always blame it on the season, and his lack of procreating. But right now Ruger felt a rage of losing his last mare and some instinctual part of replacing her.
Moving out from among the trees where he had been standing in the shadows, Ruger dropped his head and pinned his ears to snake her towards the shore. He didn’t start with any pleasantries, not here at least. There were too many others lurking about; watching and waiting… The black and white painted stallion would have plenty of time to make up for it once they were home.
(You can reply here or in the Prairie ^.^)
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