Soljor
Marines don't die. They go to hell and regroup.
Soljor was startled from his patrol by the approach of the other mare. He snorted and tried to puff himself up. Now, this just served to make the ball of baby-coat and tiny feathers more adorable. At least, that is what his mother would say. He was still just a bunch of legs on which someone had put a head and neck that didn't quite fit. He had the potential to be large, of course, but for the moment, he was still just a gangly colt.
His mother adored him. But his mother was not here. Neither was his father. It was just him and this strange mare. He had only once before met a mare that was not his mother. That had been ages ago on a little trip to the Crossing where he'd tagged along with his mother as she stretched her legs.
He snorted and approached the stranger. He tried to look as big as he could. But, in reality, he probably just looked adorable. The kind of creature that would make someone squeal and want to pick him up. He was a very fuzzy little boy after all.
He was unaware of this - as most boys are.
"Hello," He said. He was still small enough that he had to look up at the strange mare. He cocked his head. He couldn't detect any scent of his father.. but she knew what he looked like? "Yes. That's my Papa. He rules here."
Ok, at least he could answer that.
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