Summer was, objectively, the worst season. As a boy on Tinuvel, he had looked forward to it as it meant a reprieve from snow and ice, but in the Lagoon it was hell. The land was muggy at the best of times, but in the summer the air grew stagnant and so humid that at times he could swear he was drinking rather than breathing. He had grown more used to it over time, but he still looked for excuses midday to dart away from the swamp to give himself a little break.
Rehoboam had chosen to lounge in the shade of the Commons while he waited out the heat of the day, one hip cocked and his eyes lazily roving over the equines strewn about. Movement ahead had drawn his eye and he watched a pretty little mare dance around the Commons with the clear intent to draw attention. It reminded him of Celestine a little bit, but the little minx in front of him didn't stir the same possessiveness he felt when he looked at his companion. She was just a pretty, nameless face that looked like far more trouble than he was prepared to deal with.
Even when the lean black stallion moved to intercept her, Rehoboam didn't immediately stir. In fact, it wasn't until the nameless ebony stallion's teeth laid into her coat that the tobiano began to move, his ears laced back in irritation as he sought them out.
"Oh come on," he grumbled under his breath, heaving his body into motion. Rehoboam didn't bother trying to cut them off, as if he sincerely doubted that the showy little mare was going to make this easy for either of them. Instead, he reached out with his own parted jaws to snap at the black stallion's hind end in a clear scolding before bothering to speak.
"Seriously? Have some manners."
Unaware the stallion could not speak, Rehoboam tossed his head in his direction with pinned ears and more than a little annoyance on his face.
"Just ask her if she wants to go with you first for crying out loud. Not everyone wants your grimy little teeth on them." Point made, he abruptly stopped rushing forward with a sliding halt that sent grass blades flying, and instead prepared himself for the inevitable retaliation.
He spared a quick glance at the mare with a tip of his head, eyes calculating. She was vaguely familiar somehow, but he couldn't place her, and given that he had seen roughly a hundred horses pass through the Crossing in the past season, he reckoned he hadn't known her well enough for it to matter.
"Do you want to go with him?"