For a moment, as the Prime Minister arrived, Ashteroth felt relief. She was not alone in this confrontation and had the backing of a much more experienced mare. But that feeling was short lived as the second stallion arrived, his foreign words causing her skin to crawl with further dislike. She hated not knowing what he had said, and the reaction of the first stallion was of no help in trying to decipher it. With the image of her mother in mind, Ashteroth does her best to continue reflecting that by a mask of cold indifference despite everything she felt.


“We are Sisters of the Peak, a land where stallions are not welcome.” Ashteroth answered in the same tone she had greeted him with. Although she did not want to show any sort of aggression to make this into a fight, she didn’t want to seem meek either. So, trying to make herself as steadfast as the mountain they stood upon, the painted mare held her ground. “There will be no need to defend yourself if you choose to turn around and go back the way you have come. However, if you do not, I will take that as a sign of aggression and I will defend myself and my home.”


It was up to the two stallions now on how this encounter would unfold.


ASHTEROTH