Kendry spends the night in the Falls and wakes as the sun casts its growing light across the gently rolling fields. As predicted, before he’s even risen for the day he can feel the ache in his hindquarters from yesterday’s capering. He huffs a sigh and flexes his muscles to warm them as he looks around at the dew-dipped grass, noting that this morning is unusually cool for summer. A thin layer of fog touches everything and almost looks like frost. With another huffy exhale the draft horse collects himself and rises to his feet before giving his pale body a thorough stretch and shaking out.
He’s further north in the Falls than he originally thought. The mountain range occupied almost solely by mares rises steadfast behind him, as unchanged as ever. His blue gaze flits toward the Peak itself: how much of the Crossing isle is visible from those heights? What a vantage point it must be for the mares. He debates momentarily about striding into their territory and taking a look around for himself, but much like the bachelors it seems the Vulcans have an uncanny awareness of strangers crossing their borders, and at this hour the last thing he wants is to be descended upon by uppity mares shrilling about his innately depraved character as a Lagoonie.
Kendry’s stomach rumbles on the tail end of this thought and he snorts lightly, amused at himself. It is unfair of him to make such assumptions. He’s never actually been to the mountains, after all, and knows little of its occupants beyond what the bachelors have muttered about it— which, in all fairness, has been as unfavorable to the Vulcans as his own internal monologue claimed the mares would be to him. He has to admit he’s curious about the mares who live at the Peak. Are they direct opposites of the stallions he calls brethren? Or are they all more similar than each side would like to believe?
He wonders if Marlena is still on the Isles. His mother was wise; if anyone would know about the Peak and its inhabitants it would be her. Last they’d spoken she’d taken up residence in the Ridge... He frowns. She’d lived with Kasabian, but Kendry had lived under Kasabian at the Lagoon, where the buckskin stallion was boss. So where would that leave Marlena?
His stomach gurgles again, more insistently this time, and Kendry lowers his head to graze. As soon as he’s done with breakfast he’s going to see if he can track down his dam. |