Common

It had been a long time since the lean tobiano King had left his post, but he found his hooves trailing through the powdered snow and slush of the main island anyway. When he had first arrived on these islands nearly seven years ago, nothing could have stopped him from trawling across the Crossing in search of new members for his herd. Back then, he had still allowed himself to be driven ragged by his father's echoing insistence that numbers equated to power, and that power meant peace.

He knew better now, of course. And time had mellowed him somewhat, as had the worries that came with the almost-war and the business of raising children. However, the drive to gather and to collect had never abated and had even begun to raise its voice in the back of his mind at the close of last autumn. It was time he got back to it. His mares deserved more company, and the islands needed to be reminded of who he was and what he stood for. Now that nearly all of his allies had been wiped from the islands by time and circumstance, he needed to make new alliances and forge new friendships so that if (or when) Rougaru (or other threats) ever returned, they would be ready.

Solomon spent the majority of the day wandering the Meadow and the Falls, and passing idle hours of conversation that left him feeling more tired than hopeful. As the storm gathered overhead and began to rumble, he opted to abandon his mission. There had been no conversation today worth weathering a sleet thunderstorm in mid-winter on the Crossing when he could instead be huddled up against one of his cherished herd members while the storm raged around them. So he turned to head back home - using the fierce outline of the Peak's mountains as a guide - and opted to take the shortest path through the Commons to save time. Finding someone else to speak to this late in the day with the storm gathering hadn't been high on his to-do list, but as his gaze landed on the golden beauty he found himself hastily rearranging his priorities.

Backlit as she was by the fading sunlight as it was quickly being cut off by the gathering storm, he found himself stalling to a halt just to watch her nervous dance. She wore almost as much white as he did, but the rest of her was cloaked in the perfect shade of gold that accentuated every shift of muscle and bone beneath her coat. Golden mares had always been his weak point, and he selfishly took her appearance before him as an invitation to approach.

Solomon lifted his head and nickered to her in greeting before trotting closer, aiming to give her warning so that he didn't startle her any more than she already was. "Are you okay?" He asked gently as he slowed down with ears pricked forward for her response. Physically she didn't seem wounded, but in the gathering darkness it was hard to tell if the scuffmarks on her coat were wounds or just fur sent awry by her swim to the islands.

A rumble from the storm drew one ear back and he half-turned to eye the storm appraisingly. It was moving faster than he thought it was, and he doubted that they would have enough time to make it to the Cove if she wanted to have a conversation first. His younger self would have probably taken the moment as a prime opportunity to manipulate the situation to his advantage and to rush her off to the Cove without a second thought, and if he were truly honest, a part of him still wanted to do that. She was a beautiful mare and clearly alone and scared, but he had forced himself to grow beyond such a predatory mode of thinking years ago.

"Here, let's at least head to the trees before the storm hits so we don't freeze to death in the sleet." He motioned with his head toward a copse of trees near the border of the Meadow and took a leading step in that direction. "Do you know where you are?"

Solomon