Though the trek from the meadow to the peak was a silent one, Bacardi felt as if it was a comfortable quiet between him and his new acquaintance. It was only as they rose closer to the top that the painted stallion began to feel the change, a tension that hung heavy in the air. It slowed his steps, but it was not until the wind buffeted his face with the reek of stallion that he stopped completely. “Something is wrong.” he warned Hawke, his stomach knotting with anxiety as his mind raced with all the possibilities that could have gone wrong. Just as his dark lips parted to say something else, Bacardi was cut short as Bozena’s call rang through the air, summoning his sister and him. “I must go. Wait here, I’ll come back.” Bacardi promised, glancing to the grullo and white before rushing further up the Peak. He did not think a new face would be welcomed right now.


As he spotted the large dark mare ahead, his golden eyes instantly began searching for his mother. But he did not see her fiery color anywhere, and it made his heart hammer just a little bit harder. “Bozena?” Although he only said her name, the tone of his voice and the expression upon his young face spoke of the thousands of questions that raced through his mind. But as his eyes looked upon her face, the hurt that lingered in the depth of her gaze, Bacardi began to realize the truth before it was even spoken. His breath hitched, and his chest felt constricted, but he continued to stare at her with any shred of hope he had left to cling to.

two years. mutt. bay tobiano. fourteen three hands. of the peak.

"...speech"