Orphiel didn’t like the new regime coming to take over the Lagoon. He understood that was the way the Lagoon was and those were the characters the Lagoon attracted, but it was so far from who he was that he felt rather lost. Rather than venture out to be social with the increase of brotherly population, the creamy dun was tucking himself back further, becoming even more antisocial than before.
A part of him longed for the Prairie, but definitely not because his blood relatives were there. The Prairie had been his home since he was born, but when his grandfather took it over he thought it would be a good thing, a way to get to know the side of his family he never had. Unfortunately since they were a bunch of hypocrites and cowards who fled the islands and ruined everything, Orphiel had no interest in knowing them or sharing the Prairie with them ever again.
So, what was he meant to do?
The young stallion idly skirted the borders of the Commons, though even he wasn’t sure why he did any more. The Lagoon didn’t have the clause requiring stallions to prowl the borders and stop unkind claims from forceful stallions. When Orphiel had asked the new boss if he should keep doing it, the old dunalino had barked raspy laughter and told him to do whatever he wanted, but a block was a good thing to do when you were trying to mess with a herd leader and rob them of their spoils. It was no longer something to do in order to protect unsuspecting horses.
Orphiel didn’t like that.
He sighed, drawing to a stop and shaking out his long winter coat, flicking his brown tail idly as he glanced listlessly around him. He noticed the silver-haired stallion first, then followed the path he was on.
Orphiel’s brows pressed inward at the sight of the pale mare. She was strangely familiar, which was odd for him to find in a mare. Orphiel tended to stay away from the fairer sex these days, still burned by the tragedy of his first love. So why… Why did she seem like someone he knew?
Before he considered the action he was taking, Orphiel had started to move, trailing slow and unaggressively in the stallion’s wake. He was close enough he caught the last few words, Have you lost your way, little dove? and his brown-lined ears turned briefly back. While nothing outright cruel had been done or said, there was a presence the stallion carried that was setting Orphiel on edge. Or maybe it was the caliber of man he was now surrounded by in the Lagoon making him nervous about other stallions.
At any rate, Orphiel walked up to the trio, giving the stallion a brief glance and then looking over at the mare.
A memory struck him of the Peak, a time when he hadn’t hated his grandfather, and his eyes widened in surprise as he said, “Calfuray?”
He was in such shock, it took him a second to remember he’d walked in and interrupted whatever ideas this green-eyed stallion had. Orphiel’s yellow-brown eyes flicked over to him, and he did nothing to look too particularly friendly toward him. His eyes narrowed briefly, then he looked back at the mare and addressed her instead. “Is everything okay?”
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