His ripples were making waves, and all Garmr could do was smile about it. The recent bout of fire starting had played out well, as far as he was concerned. Even with Nahawi shutting down his trade with the Peak, even with Rehoboam’s scolding, it had done little to sway the beast. Garmr had known he had stepped out of line of his position by making the offer to the Peak, but it had cast eyes on the Boss when he hadn’t backed him for the sake of a brother. Hadn’t backed him in front of the Peak. A chuckle rumbled up from his chest, while his green eyes glittered with mischief. Where could he start another fire for Nahawi to put out? Or even the nominated General who was clearly on Nahawi’s side?


Like an answer to his thoughts, Garmr heard one of his brothers call echo across the Lagoon. A hum of satisfaction left the painted stallion before he stalked through the swamp to where the awaiting brute rested in the shade. The humidity had the draft’s flank and neck damp with sweat, while the squelching water and mud kept his feathered hooves heavy and matted. Still, the rakish stallion offered his brother a smile when he approached.


“You called?” he asked, curious to what the painted brother wanted, and where he might stand with the Lagoon.


GARMR