†
Temblor's trek through the trees quiets the cacophony all about him to intermittent cries. Scarcely has he taken more than a handful of steps, however, the noise of the jungle ceases entirely. He pauses, ears swiveling, and recognizes the rushed approach of another horse. He attempts to pivot and knocks his shoulder against the nearest tree, scraping his skin raw against the rough bark as he completes his hurried turn. A silver buckskin stands down the trail, expelling a harsh snort and posturing in an unmistakable way. Temblor flexes his own neck in instinctive response. His dark nostrils flare wide to discern the other's scent from among the fragrant flora. It doesn't match any of the faint and fading markers he noted upon his arrival, and he snorts lightly to flush it from his nose.
The stallion takes a step forward, and Temblor matches it with two. He doesn't care for the measured stare being leveled at him, nor the way this stranger speaks as if he has some inherent claim to this land despite there being no evidence of his inhabiting it— it is the entitlement to the territory that bothers him. He twists his ears to the side as the stranger speaks of wolves, tips them back when the silver buckskin drops the name of his father as if it is meant to carry some weight. Admittedly, Temblor is ignorant of the politics on these islands. He does not know who is who, nor the motives anyone might carry, and he is triply unaware of the history of the families who have called these islands home for longer than he has been alive. What he does know is that he has laid claim to this strange, humid territory, and before him stands another male who appears to be challenging that claim with all the arrogance of someone who has never had to work for anything in his life. No doubt he has sheltered his entire life under the umbrella of his father's reputation and still expects to benefit from that shade.
Temblor flips his ears forward with another light snort. He is about to speak when another horse comes crashing through the lush undergrowth. He startles, whole body tensing as he anticipates an ambush from that side, but what appears is a mare only a little taller than the cocky stallion, her stiff gray body freckled and flecked in some places with red. Her eyes are fixed wide upon him, and her tremulous stare threatens to conjure a memory he's sworn to forget. Temblor flicks it away with a shudder of his coat. His focus narrows on the silver buckskin stallion, and he takes another step forward, the muscles in his chest bunching as he resists the instinctive urge to strike out with his foreleg.
"My name is Temblor," he responds, wondering again at the odd choice of metaphor Annubis has used. Horses are not wolves, but this one seems insistent that he and his kin are analogous with the predators. Bravado? Or an earned comparison? It would be wise of Temblor to tread lightly until he knows which, but adrenaline is buzzing through his entire body and wisdom has been shunted aside. It has been too long since he has been confronted by someone who desires what he has, and too long since he has been in a position to defend it. His pride flares. "How can I displace what is not here? Your scent is stale, Annubis, if indeed it was ever here at all."
He angles his head to include their audience without sacrificing his awareness of the silver stallion's movements. "I'm curious what sort of arrangement you might suggest," he says, and then addresses the gray mare: "Are you one of his 'pack'?"
He could crowd between the two, force them apart and drive the other stallion off— it's what his body yearns to do, for autumn is not so very far away, and once the season turns there will be no hesitation on Temblor's part at all should such a situation arise again. But, he understands how rigid pride can be, and the lengths some will go to mend it when pushed past the breaking point. Supposing she does belong to Annubis, it's possible that if he concedes to let the mare leave with the silver buckskin it will salve the offense he has inadvertently given by laying claim to the dormant territory. Then again, perhaps it will merely inflame Annubis's appetite. Temblor does not doubt there will be trouble from this one down the line, regardless of where this... discussion ends.
TEMBLOR
& swallows you whole
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