His territory. Wonka couldn’t believe it. His green eyes seemed energized in their color as he looked upon the cold territory and smiled a broad, excited smile. This was the very coast his mother had grown up on, where his grandfather and grandmother had lived. A territory just across the island was the one which Tarrant had grown up in and that too was where his grandfather and grandmother had lived. The Island of Tinuvel was opening her figurative arms for the young stallion whose blood had brought him here. The Inlet was his very first home. What a word! Everyone else could throw it about but this was the first time Wonka had borders and responsibilities. Ever since breath was first sucked into his lungs it was traveling and adventures which had taken him but now, now his hooves were planted and his nostrils were filled with an array of scents.

Father wanted to live in the territory with him, of course, but he’d made no hesitation in letting Wonka know that the leadership duties fell on Wonka’s own shoulders. Gathering a family, protecting them, making certain no other mares were left waiting for the last stallion which had lived here before. Those were his duties and he set forward, alone, to handle them. It was his first time away from Tarrant’s side while occupying the islands and it was invigorating! He gave a little kick, tossed his head and charged down the beach, upsetting a small flock of gulls that flew up with a clamor of noises. He smiled, pulled his pace and turned, searching the distance further inland where the land became woodland around the river which would eventually pool out into the ocean.

Wonka did not think he saw anyone but knew he still had a decent amount of the territory to cover. With a loud whinny, a declaring noise to bring any hiding creatures to the open, the young stallion turned and made his way up the beach once more.