Falls

Solomon

"Now you try to keep away from me," Suleiman says with a throaty giggle as his new friend remains stationary. This game was much easier when he had someone else to demonstrate, but he figured he would manage. He could have grabbed his father, who was known to join in their games, but he didn't think this was the right time, and plus, he wanted to keep his new friend to himself for now. After all, he knew better than to interrupt his father when he was talking to a mare. Flagging his short little tail, Sul trotted a few steps away, the water splashing beneath his pale hooves. "So when I count to three, you should run and I will try to catch you. And when I do, you can try to catch me."

The small colt paws at the flowing water as he begins, using his hooves to accentuate each number as he says it. "One.... two... THREE!" He shouts around his own laughter as he bounds after the colt, hoping that he had taken off as instructed. Suleiman tries to get fancy with his movements, ducking low as though he were some sort of athletic cowhorse and nearly tripping himself in the reeds before popping up with another laugh and resuming his chase.

---

Solomon had not missed the way she responded to Bjorn's disappearance and filed it away to consider later. Clearly there was more to their story than the brief bit of context they'd given him and he wondered if the pretty pink mare harbored feelings for the grullo stallion. Objectively it would not be that surprising. While Solomon was not in the habit of looking at the attractiveness of other male stallions, even he would be hard-pressed to deny that Bjorn's sleek color, striking white markings, and rounded musculature would be attractive to mares. Coupled with the scars that littered his coat as a testament to his strength and the fact that he had a charming accent and another language to woo mares in and it was no wonder that he was Solomon's constant competition.

Now that he was gone, however, Solomon was more than aware that they were alone. Their respective sons played nearby, but it would not be hard to shoo them further away for a few moments. He would not need long to ensure that her next son wore the same tobiano coat that he himself wore, but he does not. He does not need to be a mind reader to see that she is still uneasy with him, and that pressing too hard, too fast, will send her skittering off into the bushes like a fearful rabbit. He could take his pleasure here, but that will be the end of it and Solomon is not willing to take that risk.

His body yearns to close the distance between them, but he resists, shifting his weight back and tilting a hip to remind himself of his goal. Her comment about her son's living conditions is barely registered, and he does not offer further commentary. Perhaps later he would consider why she had not gone back to her son's home after Liland had lost and disappeared, but the thought does not cross his mind now.

Now, he is far too consumed by the way the fire trickles back into her eyes and replaces the uncertainty of before and his own smile slowly vanishes as she rebuffs his concern. Solomon's tail switches across his hocks and she soundly voices her opinion in the male gender, and while he wants to laugh to bring the lightness back into a conversation that had gotten rather heavy rather fast, he does not. Clearly her previous stallions have not treated her with any sort of kindness, and the resentment has built within her to the point of refusing to take part in herd life again. He wonders if she can be brought around, if he might still convince her to give the Cove a try, but finds he is less certain now than he had been at the start of the conversation. Perhaps she would be more like Marzanna, and require more than one attempt at winning her loyalty.

"I am sorry your past leaders have given you that experience of herd life." He says after a long, quiet moment. "I certainly hope none in my herd feel that way."

He meets her gaze, if he can, for a long moment before he looses a sigh and turns his attention to the far off Peak. Both of his ears turn back, but do not pin as he considers the homeland of the mares. It was somewhat surprising that she did not know of them, but then again, her previous herd may have been lucky enough to escape their wrath. Solomon certainly hadn't been.

"Yes." He says after a moment, his voice much cooler. "I'd venture a guess they're better than being alone, but I have no fondness of them." Again his tail switches, but he turns back toward Ylva and softens. "It is an all mare herd, and while they preach equality and women empowerment, their actions hardly embody that. Twice they have attempted to force my family members from their home."

He might have left it at that, had the light of interest not entered Ylva's eyes. The last herd he wanted her to be was the Peak, for she would surely be untouchable there. "The first was Harley Quinn, who they attempted to bodily force into the ocean from the Cove, and the second was my queen Daciana. At least that was an honorable fight, but as to why they thought she would switch loyalties is beyond me. I imagine they took offense to the fact that Daciana helped to protect Quinn." The pain of losing Quinn and her unborn was unguarded in his voice. He still did not know why the young golden mare had disappeared, but he still thought of her often.

Breaking from his thoughts, Solomon's gaze focuses back on Ylva. "I would not trust them, Ylva." He sighs again and shakes his head slightly, almost in disbelief at the words he utters next. Solomon hates the Peak with every fiber of his being, but he would rather see the pink mare safe with a herd of man-haters than dead with an orphaned son. "But sometimes even someone you don't trust is better than being alone in winter."

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