Solomon

In truth, Solomon had not been certain of his intentions when he called out for the pony stallion.

Hindsight would probably clarify that hormones had much to do with it. Having allowed his thoughts to roam freely to what it might be like to take the fierce little pony mare beneath him, willing or not, as he crested into her territory, his mindset was not well suited to encountering another stallion instead, much less Bjorn. The small grullo stallion had frequently inserted himself where he was decidedly not wanted, and had a terrible habit of courting the mares that Solomon had his eyes on. Marzanna, Rivaini, Ylva, and so on. Despite the legions of stallions on these islands, it was always Bjorn that dogged his steps.

Even now, Solomon was not blind to the way the pony mare's body yearned toward the small speckled stallion. The thought that the grullo may have already had his way with Valka gave him only momentary pause, for covering her was not the reason for which he'd come, only a possibility that had lodged itself in his mind. It did make him wonder, though, if Bjorn had been implying that he was going to lodge himself on Tinuvel with pretty words rather than a fierce battle.

Such an outcome would be preferable, for a number of reasons, but Solomon knew it came with just as many dangers. Any circumstance that brought Warsaw and Bjorn into close proximity was bound to result in fireworks, considering the tense nature of their relationship, but one that placed Bjorn as a neutral party rather than a hostile agitator was definitely preferable.

Solomon had not forgotten how he'd mulled over allying himself with the grullo long before his relationship with Warsaw was cemented. However, the possibility that Solomon might find himself a third wheel on an island ruled by small fuzzy creatures was one he would have to consider later.

As they drew together, Solomon's neck bowed into a tight arch that only accentuated the wicked smirk on his lips. He was annoyed yes, but not blind with rage and as a result, he only offers a tight chuckle at Bjorn's display and growled words. The fluffy little man, even standing on his hind legs, only brought himself face to face with the tobiano. They had nothing to battle for, in truth. Bjorn had nothing that Solomon wished to take, apart from the pony mare's time, but the rush of testosterone in his body called for blood. He knew this would not be the last time he and the grullo stallion would butt heads over mares, but perhaps this would set the tone for future encounters.

"I didn't think you were the type to back down from a friendly spar, Bjorn." Solomon's dark eyes flashed and he surged forward over the last remaining distance, his secondary comment nearly lost in a growl of his own. "Since you seem to be everywhere you shouldn't be."

The painted stallion closes the remaining distance between them with a lunge, taking care to go for the side opposite Valka. He assumes the pony stallion will have returned to all fours by now, considering the unstable position it would put him in otherwise, and aligns himself as close as possible so that he may shove shoulder to shoulder, seeking to unbalance the Icelandic and in a way, sandwich him against Valka and unseat both of their balances. Even as he does so, Sol's blunted teeth are reaching for Bjorn's gaskin, attempting to curtail his movement to make further attacks easier.

As quick as he can, although he knows it exposes his own hind end, Solomon steps forward a few steps so that he is perpendicular to the grullo stallion, and launches his hind feet through the narrow space he has created. With any luck, they will find purchase against Bjorn's midsection, and maybe even crack a rib, but there is much that could go wrong. Bjorn could be too close for the attack to do much more than bunt against him, or so far that Solomon's hooves whiff over his body entirely.

Whether any of his attacks had landed, Solomon gathers himself as he lands, preparing to gain distance so that he might circle for a more advantageous position.

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