Temblor presented Firestorm with a challenge. Firestorm, being who she was, accepted it without a second thought. So much so, that when he blocked her path just enough to make her give pause mid-stride, she lurched forward with pinned ears and teeth aimed for a punishing bite. It didn’t matter if she strikes him or not -- he moved, and if she tagged little more than humid air, that was just fine by her. She wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of having to bite this stallion. She would if she had to -- but she preferred not to. She liked him, thus far. Soon enough, she trudged forward at a few paces of trot, before slowing to a purposeful walk. The steely stallion would take up her flank, which was a behavior that was not unfamiliar to her for a couple of reasons. Firstly, in the traditional band, the stallion usually brought up the rear of the herd. If the leading mares encountered trouble of any sort, be it a predator or a rogue, he would have them all within his line of vision and ensure none were left behind. Secondly, the change of season was nearly upon them, if not already present. Soon enough, her scent would become irresistible to any stallion. Thirdly, of course, this was his home and she was still a stranger.

If he weren’t mindful and came upon her too quickly, it would be easy to assume that he’d receive a hoof to the chest, or perhaps a bruising graze to one of his powerful legs. Fortunately, she only seemed to cow hop or threaten, instead of actually delivering any kicks at him; given her combative nature, it would be easy to assume that this was more along the lines of a flirtation than it was in any sense to defend herself or threaten him.

The jungle was dense and full of all manner of fauna and trees and smells she was largely unaccustomed to. Which she’s realizing a touch too late that she may have accepted his challenge a touch too soon… For she had come to the decision that she needed water first, before food. Her throat had become dry to the point of discomfort, and everything here smelled like water. Her trudge through the jungle would come to an abrupt halt. He very well could have bumped into her, which to a rather curious surprise, if he did, she wouldn’t have kicked or squealed. She’d have simply looked at him, with the way her head was turned. Instead, a question burned within her eyes, “ And if I cannot find them? “ she asks in a manner that suggests that she expects there to be a hidden motive. By now, her ears were in a more relaxed position, they even pointed at him with curious interest.

Firestorm doesn’t quite realize that this very well could have been a tactic for Temblor to test how resourceful she could be in unfamiliar territory… Which was an inarguably important and especially desirable skill to have. For should she stay (either by her own choice, or his will), she would need to know how to find such things to not only pass this knowledge onto her children but also to teach any other mares that would come to call this jungle home.

Firestorm doesn’t bother to wait for him to answer the question before she turned her head and neck. She’d lift her head to inhale the dense, humid air. But all she collects is the stink of humidity and greenery. She snorts the scent out before she’d toss her head upright, her lip peeling back to reveal the slick flesh of her inner lip, intensifying her scent. Although this was usually a behavior commonly used by stallions, she too had learned to use it in situations such as these. Her head would drop down before leveling into a more relaxed position, and she would change direction, headed more to the right, as opposed to ‘straight’ any further. Judging by the determination with each step now suggests that something had caught her interest.