After a moment, Svenja followed.

Fell’s feathered hooves left deep, messy prints in the damp sand as they walked along the shoreline, but it was not long before the black Marwari stallion became aware of someone ahead of them, limping closer. He was not moving very quickly, and Fell’s attention had been trained into the forest beyond the beach, so the stranger was within shouting distance by the time Fell saw him. Immediately, the Bay leader halted and stiffened, his ears cupping forward intently, his nose lifting to catch any bit of the stranger’s scent that might make it to him without first being blown away by the ocean breeze. He angled himself so that his body blocked the blue roan mare from the stranger, and considered his options, something on which he would not normally have spent much time, but with the tentative and fragile state of his relationship (if you could call it that) with the painted mare, Fell was willing to exercise a bit more self control than usual.

Nuka? came her voice behind him, as the unfamiliar stallion drew close enough for the blue roan mare to speak to. He heard the stallion say something as well — Svenja? — and then halted. Fell’s muscles continued to tense and coil, the hair at the base of his mane rising in anticipation. His discomfort at having an unknown stallion within his borders was beginning to turn into outright aggression, despite his attempts to remain calm for Svenja’s sake. He let out a harsh snort, his nostrils flaring, the sound exiting him explosively even though he did not need to employ his vocal cords to make it. His tail snapped heavily against his flanks, and he stamped once with a hind hoof.

But the sable stallion did not leave immediately. He spoke to Svenja as though Fell were not even there, and Svenja responded with some manner of emotion in her voice. Fell clamped down hard on his anger, writhing within himself, fighting to keep from messing this up —

But was it even worth it? He did not need Svenja’s affection. He could keep her here, happy or not; a distinction that mattered, but only to a certain point. He had gotten this far in life without a sliver of love from anybody, and he had survived — even found success in some small amount, if his perception of success through Rougaru was anything to go by.

But, no, that was not truly what he wanted. At least, while he was still in control of himself, he was aware that he did not genuinely want to go down that path. He took a deep breath, and found that his ears had pinned themselves against his raven mane, so he forced them upward again as the limping stallion turned to leave.

The second the stranger’s eyes left the blue roan mare, Fell relaxed to some degree, until Svenja moved to follow him. Nuka’s head snapped toward her, teeth bared in an unmistakable show of aggression, and Svenja halted, clearly disturbed. She spoke, but Fell did not hear her over the rush of blood in his ears, and the pounding of his own hooves. He thrust his head out, ears pinned as he drove toward the intruder, making it clear that he had overstepped. Time to go was the unmistakable message written in Fell’s body language as his teeth reached out to deliver a punishing bite to Nuka’s hindquarters. He had abandoned his self control, not without the understanding that this may ruin any chances he had of bringing Svenja into the herd rather than leaving her to wander the territory on her own. Leaving her alone in the Bay, Fell thought, was a better option than letting this stallion get away with threatening something of his.

FELL

stallion. 16hh. black. marwari x. Rougaru x visurix.