As the morning had progressed, the day had slowly grown warmer. Just by lifting his head slightly, the stallion could almost smell the sweet change in the air- soon the forest would be alight with the young buds of new vegetation. There would be small flowers popping through the moss on the floor of the forest, and soon with all the newborn foals would be awash with a world full of new life- but for now the world was only warming slightly under the generous sun. The red stallion stood at the edge of his home, waiting for the man of grass to greet him, his back being subtly warmed by the sun and his skin glowing under the hot light.

Just behind him, further into the belly of the forest, Vercingetorix was more than aware of the battle of dominance that had all the mares occupied for more of their days. Whilst they were barking words at each other and politely demanding the attention of one another, they had paid no mind to the dun man, allowing him to pass undetected under their noses as he had made for the border. He had looked through the trees, waiting for a silhouette in the form of a woman to appear and hold him up for some time, but his progress had gone uninterrupted, allowing him to find the prairie without any problems or situations that might had blown him off course.

Naturally, he did not have to wait long.

As his bellow had echoed across the relatively flat and terribly familiar lands, the grullo stallion appeared in good time, careful to keep his distance from the red stallion that had already asserted his dominance. This time around, Vercingetorix feels a small pang of respect for the other man, and is more than aware of his ability to chase the stallion off the island if the idea so pleased him. Instead, his ears rotate quietly backwards, a gentle reminder to the other stallion that he was not an entirely friendly stallion. It was most unfortunate that anything sociable about the red dun had been squashed from the moment of his birth, but it was an undeniable truth.

Shifting his weight and contemplating the other stallion's words for a few moments, Vercingetorix brings his ears forwards tentatively, staring into the grullo's face for a few beats of a second before responding. “You came to the forest- you wanted to talk?” He is trying to be amiable, if friendly, but the softness of his voice holds a sort of flatness to it that could be misconstrued as unfriendly.