sephiroth
Sephiroth reasoning for being in the Commons was entirely selfish. Masamune was gone. Eos was gone. Penelope was gone. Vivaldi was gone. Even Jormungandr had left him, to which Sephiroth felt betrayed. He had slipped away without so much as a word. They weren't close, that much was true, but Sephiroth thought the other stallion had at least respected him enough to not slink off in the shadows like a coward. He'd abandoned a mare and her children, and Sephiroth was happy enough to shelter them in the Thicket, but it wasn't the same. And Sephiroth was lonely. Over the years he'd learned it was an uncomfortable feeling. When he was younger he'd missed his father, and truthfully he still did. But now he missed his own family, as small and fleeting as it had been.
And so, that brought us to the very moment Sephiroth was experiencing. The Commons was far more populated than he remembered and the amount of scents was almost dizzying, especially in such a season. With a sigh the spotted stallion had stolen off to a small patch of trees, dropping himself with a grunt onto the soft moss that grew outward from the base of the trees. It was strange being in a more open area after spending almost all his time in the Thicket. At first he'd found the dense forest hard to navigate but he had grown to love it. There was something reassuring about the trees that had become his constant companions.
When Vivienne arrived it was clear she wanted everyone to see her. And it worked. Horse after horse inclined their heads to look at her. Sephiroth, too. His ears flicked forward, ever-green eyes watching her. With a quiet groan, the patched stallion pulled himself to his feet and shook the dried bits of moss from his coat. Another stallion, setting his sights on her as well, backed away abruptly after Sephiroth pinned his ears with a snap of his gnashing teeth.
He turned back and matched her energy, stepping into a lofty trot as he approached. She may not have called out, but Sephiroth whickered deeply as he neared. He arched his lean neck, trotting a loose circle around where she had been before pulling up. He turned to face her, standing tall and proud. The scars from his battles, both wins and losses, had healed but the evidence of them was drawn across his body like the pages of a book.
"And to what do we owe such an honor?" He raised his brows, a playful smile across his whiskered lips.