Solomon

Rage burns in his blood as he retreats from the gathering, Coda already sent on her way back to the Cove. How it all happened was a blur to him but it had left a sour taste in his mouth and a deep desire to watch the entirety of the Peak burn to the ground. Wasp and Adelheid's interference only exacerbated his anger at Coda's initial betrayal, and while he would have liked nothing more than to see the black splash mare bow to him, it was not a fight he was interested in. At best he would only exchange one bitter mare for another; with the second being far more likely to take what she learned in the Cove back to her sisters.

No, he could not accept her deal.

Solomon had plunged into the surf after Coda initially, wanting to make sure the gray mare didn't detour from the path he had set out before her. They would have a chat later, but he had doubled back to the Peak shores to make sure that they were not being followed. Neither Wasp nor Adelheid seemed like the type to let things go, and he'd be damned if he put his herd in more danger than they needed to be.

The surge of testosterone from their encounter had not yet settled and he trotted along the outskirts of the Peak with long, springing strides and a tense bow to his neck. A flash of grey in the trees causes an abrupt change of direction, ears immediately pinning as he prepares to chastise Coda once more.

As he makes it to the mare, however, it is clear that she is not his. Instead, a sleek mare of monochrome brindle stared at him haughtily, implying that he should move on past her. A sneer of his lips accentuates the ears that remained pinned, but he does stop his forward momentum to study her. It is clear, even from here, that no one has robbed the heat from her skin. It adds to the pounding in his ears and instinct demands that he step forward and rectify such an oversight.

It is the waver in her voice that does him in; it's the tiniest admission of her vulnerability and it inflames the beast within in. A low chuckle rumbles from the tobiano stallion as he closes the distance between them. "No, you are right. I did not come here seeking you."

There is a hardness in his eyes that belies his less than innocent intentions, but he remains gentlemanly for now, drawing close to her to offer his muzzle for the quintessential exchange of breath. Solomon does not want to chase her through the throngs of her annoying sisters, nor does he want to alarm her before he gets close enough to take his ounce of flesh from the Peak.

"But I am glad to have come across you all the same, gorgeous." Now closer, his voice is softer, the tones deeper with the combination of the need for her surging through his veins and their proximity. "What is your name?"

Hormones aside, she was pretty. Her sleek form glittered in the fading light and the strong arch of her neck mimicked his own. Solomon had come to accept his preference for blondes, but that didn't mean he couldn't look at other mares with the same covetous zeal. It would perhaps be a suicide mission to try to snake her from these lands, but he was nothing if not a gambling man. If nothing else, he could always leave his mark on the Peak in other ways.

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