Solomon

He hates these denizens of the Peaks in every from they come in. Back home they'd once been called Amazons until his family had razed their territory to ruin and instilled one of their own in the lush jungle they'd inhabited. They were so blind to the designs of mother nature that they wasted their lives pretending that mares and stallions had the same capabilities. As if mother nature had made some mistake in their design.

He wouldn't deny that mares were strong, but their abilities were not that of a stallions. Their place was to be in a herd, protected by someone who would not be weakened by the changing of the season or the swell of their stomach.

Coda did not seem to understand where it is to that she has fled to, and it lights a small spark of hope in his chest that they may escape this scenario without bloodshed. He moves to reply her sassy comment, to point out that it was her decision to sell her freedom in the Commons. Regardless of whether or not she wanted to claim that she didn't know, she had risked her right to make a decision with her choice of where she'd gone.

This hope quickly fades as first one, and then two mares join them, both curling at the edge of their conversation like hissing vipers. They both resemble him in certain ways, as it appears that they all share Friesian blood, but neither quite met his height. Despite this, he is aware that if this devolves into an actual fight, they will have the upper hand for a multitude of reasons. Three against one, in territory that was familiar to mares that had likely spent most of their days learning how to fight was not one that he thought he'd win.

Diplomacy was called for here, even if it left a caustic taste on his tongue.

"That is the gist of the matter." He motions toward Coda with a bob of his head, his voice measured and forcibly calm. "I placed a valid claim on her in the Commons and followed her when I found that she'd left our home without a word. I didn't know what danger she was going to find herself in."

Neither the flint in his gaze or the tense bunch of his muscles have lessened since the altercation began. He half expects the delusional warrioresses of the Peak to attack at any moment, if their hostile expressions and behavior were any indications. With a stiffness borne of the odds mounted against him, Sol strides toward the gray mare and stretches a muzzle to touch her gently on the sloped line of her shoulder. His expression softens minutely as he does so, but hardens again when he turns back to the mares.

"So unless Coda here plans to bargain with you for her freedom in a trade her for one of the prisoners you keep in the mountains, I'd like to return home with her now." He adds the former more for Coda's benefit than for his own. Solomon sincerely doubted that the Peak would bargain for a mare's freedom, especially if it meant giving up something they owned. He only needed Coda to understand that he was not offering her imprisonment in the Cove. It was a herd life, and a good one, even if she hadn't initially chosen it herself. "We can be out of your hair as soon as she's rested from the trip."

No, Coda had done far more damage here than she realized. Even if they escaped this unscathed, with Coda and Solomon making the return swim to the Cove together, she'd awoken the Peak's wrath and heaven only knew how long he would have to deal with it.

Dutch Harness Horse Mutt | Champagne Grullo Tobiano Stallion | 17 Hands | The Cove