Common

Another joined, he looked young. But Firestorm knows that youth matters for naught with a truly confident stud, and he seemed to be just that. So she took a moment to take in his energy. It felt malleable, which was… interesting. He felt full of possibility and she pondered if he had enough experience to even keep a mare. Which told her that her choice in him would be a gamble; especially in the presence of the Vulcan and the band stallion who’d first laid eyes upon her, and spoke to her.

… Speaking of.

Her attention turns to him, as he regards the Vulcan with curiosity and interest. But then the one called Rafe spewed a slew of unsavory and unfavorable things, before turning tail and the collective became little more than a memory, or, moment to the day.

To say that she was disappointed was underwhelming to what brewed within. Her ears slick back, flattening against her scruffy mane. After, she considered the brindle stud’s choice of words to the younger stallion, and her attention set upon him. He could recognize the glimmer of frustration that glittered within her dark eyes, but it didn’t seem directed at Joachim, specifically. Aside, her weight would shift, as she cocks a foot under herself. “ A potent question. One which can be answered differently, depending on the individual. “ she says -- which was true. Archaic laws and rules were often followed out of a sense of duty, familiarity, and because in darker times? They worked.

But times were changing.

And many, like Firestorm, were finding themselves in hopeless situations. Firestorm wanted to be desired -- and Rafe seemed like he was interested. But he had done little to covet her. In fact, the moment that obstacles came into play, he had decided that because she wasn’t an easy prize, he was suddenly uninterested. This was problematic. Both to her confidence, and her security… Theft was a common act in their world. What if she were tailed by a foal, snaked away by a bachelor (or, even worse, a team of bachelors), and the foal in question was trampled in the panic? Or separated?

No… It was at that moment, that she decided that the problem wasn’t that she wasn’t an easy prize.

She’d huff a snort, flick her crimson tail, and regarded Joachim, once more. “ In my opinion, the ideal band stallion is confident and assertive. Which can quickly develop into aggression, in questionable company, or when he finds himself, or his family in a dangerous situation. “ she muses with thought. “ But he also understands the value of his women. A powerful band stallion only gets the levity of power he has from his mares. Are they accommodating to the women you bring home? Does your lead mare have the knowledge and wisdom of when and where to find resources such as shelter, water, and food, even in harsher climates or conditions? What if a mare bares a foal and dies, or isn’t producing milk? Can you play middle-man and peacemaker to keep the surrogate from simply deciding she’s the mother to the little life she’s suckling, and chasing its actual mother away? “ she asks curiously. “ Or, if a foal is born and the herd needs to move, but the little one cannot get up to follow? Do you drive its mother away to the herd, leave it to starve, and risk the mother leaving under cover of night to return to her failed foal? Or do you make the difficult decision to end its suffering, and risk angering the mother? “ she huffs. It seemed like Firestorm knew quite a bit, from experience. Even in her youth -- she was not quite as young as Joachim, but, she was not only observant but in her handful of years, had already seen and experienced much.

“ You’re a stallion. Your job isn’t just to protect us from stallions, or predators. “ she says, “ It’s to keep the peace, and make the decisions we, not as women, but as mothers who either cannot, or struggle to make. “

Briefly, she eyes over the Vulcan, pondering if she’d agree, or disagree with what Firestorm had to say. Regardless, the little red roan was confident with her knowledge.