There had been small changes in the forest. While the trees had remained as they ever were, with soft whispers of wind trailing their invisible fingers through the leaves that were now the crisp colours of autumn, everything had seemed a little different. The overly cautious and undeniably protective stallion had somehow been satiated in his affections towards the mares, and despite his constant need to linger near the edges of the herd and be where he could be seen, he was more interested in getting closer. Often he would pick a companion for the night and he would stand near her, leaning against her shoulder or laying his head across her back.

Small touches like this were more than assuring to the main body of the herd, and while Vercingetorix felt anxious at the idea of taking so long to run along the borders of the forest, he was comforted by the company he had brought himself into.

Today, there is a fog laying fresh throughout the forest, weaving through the trees and giving the surrounding area an eerie appearance. It was thick and pale against the slowly rising sun in the distance, and the stallion found that his senses were dulled thanks to the blanket of mist that all but blinded himself and the herd. While the mares had begun to understand that they were to stay together, their interactions amongst themselves remained closed or distant. At this point, the red dun did not mind, he was more interested in bathing himself in the attention of their feminine attractions.

Slowly the morning wanes on, and the fog continues to persist, forcing the stallion to once again distance himself from the herd as he picks up the tail end of the group, letting them find their way to better grazing all by feel and familiarity.

Everyone appeared to be present, from the grey with her two relatively quiet children that the stallion had opted to keep a respectful distance from, to the sprightly appaloosa that he had covered not too long ago and who seemed to glow in her early pregnancy. The only one that appeared to be missing was the brown woman that had made her first appearance to him in the forest not too long ago, being sworn as the ward of Serenity and that she was easily trusted and no harm at all to the herd. Somewhat unsure of this strange woman, Vercingetorix pauses in his slow walk as he scans the trees through the dense fog, fully aware that her mottled skin of different shades of brown would shield her from his prying eyes. So instead of calling her sharply by name, which he knew to be Owl, he lets out a soft low, letting the sound cut through the fog as he summons her quietly to the edge of the herd where the rest of the mares would likely ignore them.