Common

There was one glorious, shining moment of freedom. Where she felt like herself for the first time in months, not just an extension of Ironclad. But like it had in the past, it did not linger long. Before anyone else could find her, Medusa did.

Lakota's gaze turned sourly on the young Inlet Queen and she huffed a sigh. She knew very little of the Queen that ruled their herd, only that she and Ironclad had been destined to rule together since they were very young. Each time that she looked upon the pretty painted mare with her bright self-confidence, Lakota could feel her own self lacking in comparison. Ironclad was never going to send her anywhere to be anyone's mare, let alone their queen.

Her sour mood only deepens when Medusa leads with an admonishment and the greying girl turns her attention away, her ears tilted back against her poll. "I know," she answers huffily, her gaze still anywhere other than Medusa. It was one thing to be discovered on her first sojourn, and another to be scolded for it. Dropping her head to below shoulder height in deference to her rank and seniority, Lakota shook her head in denial of Medusa's offer and tried not to sneer in frustration. Instead, she simply turned away, both from the offer and her company and oriented back towards the Inlet.

She'd always thought of the Inlet as her home. It was where she had been born, and where her first memories had taken place. She knew of all of her favorite spots - the sweetest grass, the best shade, the warmest water. But the longer she stayed, the more she felt like a box of misfit toys. She wasn't really Ironclad's mare, so she could not win his favor with flirtation and challenges like the other mares. Nor was she his child, able to wrap him around her finger with a bat of her eyelashes like Pike could. She was just… there.

And while, yes, coming to the Commons was risky, it had never seemed so dangerous as Medusa was making it out to be. So what if a stallion tried to force her hand? She could kick at him and make him leave until she was able to call for Ironclad's help.

What rankled her most, however, apart from the shame of being scolded in public, was what her Queen said next. Find others to play with? What was she, a weanling? Quite before she can think it through, her ears snap back against her poll and she whips around to glare daggers at her Queen.

"I'm not looking for a playmate," she hisses, her copper tail lashing. "Not all of us get daddy to set up our future as royalty. Some of us have to make it on our own."

Frustrated, Lakota sidestepped away, her ears still folded backward. Her anger still burned hot but already she knew that the moment she stepped foot inside the Inlet, she would be given yet another talking to. "Forget it," she says, her voice laced with bitterness. "I'll go home."

Without further preamble, the two-year-old darted away, her head still low. She angled for the far side of the Peak, knowing that she would need extra time to cool off before she dealt with her father's punishment.