It’s been a productive day. Rafe didn’t exactly set out expecting to be able to claim his own land, especially after his fruitless explorations of Atlantis. Too many equines there, each territory brimming full with mares and foals, scattered stallions among them. It never bodes well, stepping into a situation that one doesn’t fully understand, and Rafe knows better than to put himself in that spot. Suppose he was able to watch long enough to decide which of the leaders he could beat in a fight, there was no way he’d be able to figure out which might be isolated. Not knowing just how each alliance fell, not knowing who he’d have to face in response to any challenge made those lush, tempting pieces of land too far out of his reach. He’d traveled south then, towards Salem; he’d never been one for the snow, so Tinuvel’s frozen shores held little appeal. Imagine his surprise, then, when he reached the shore and came across a stunning sight. No one. Not a single equine; the land was pretty enough, too, spread wide open. Harsh, to be sure, but then Rafe always had welcomed a little challenge.
As a reward for his good instincts to push south and then his success at taking the Badlands for his own, Rafe heads almost immediately to the Common. Perhaps he can manage to find a lovely little mare to join him as well, really round out this day as an all together win. It certainly does seem like the universe is showering him with favor today, because the moment he makes for the treeline he has a mare crashing into him. She’s tall, with a striking black coat and pale mane and tail; Rafe hasn’t ever seen someone of her coloration before, and he’s intrigued even before she opens her mouth. When she does speak, he grins.
Her tone is entirely venom, words spat out and face going harsh; he doesn’t rise to the bait, but he feels himself perk forward, blood running just a bit hotter at the prospect of a fight. He blinks at her instead of responding, slowly flicking an ear back and shifting his weight away, hopefully out of biting range. “You ran into me,” Rafe points out mildly. “And that hardly sounded like an apology.” He could add a jibe about her manners, but that might be a little over the top; she is, after all, angry already and within range for a well placed kick to hurt for a few weeks. He isn’t honestly upset at the turn of events - she’s pretty, and he’s made it this far trusting his gut. His gut says that meetings like this, that days like this, they aren’t coincidence.
“Where are you rushing off to so quickly, then? Especially considering it’s the wrong direction.” It’s stated plainly enough, and while he can’t be certain Rafe has a feeling that this mare will know exactly what he means. Unlucky for her, that she stumbled upon someone like him when she so clearly had somewhere to be. The only place she will be going is straight to the Badlands with him.