In lieu of all the activity that had befallen the red stallion in the height of breeding season, he had found there to be a sort of lull in activity and attention as the autumn was coming to a close and the bitter chill of winter had started to flare up in the air. While he had started to sequester himself away from the herd for fear of being lashed out at, or worse, verbally degraded without cause, he still remained ever-vigilante.

Standing in the midst of the low hanging fog that cloaks the main body of the herd, already the stallion can hear the gentle stirrings of bodies rising from their slumber and some mother awakening their slowly maturing offspring. Their day had begun, and the red stallion was off to the side with the brown mare. She is so much smaller than himself, even while Vercingetorix had never been blessed to be tall and unbelievably robust and strong, he still felt like he was wearing the shoes of a giant as Owl stood in his mighty shadow.

When he had reached forwards to brush his nose against her shoulder, he fully expects the mare to flee into the trees, having never touched the mare before and this being the first time they had met after the stallion's discovery of her presence lingering around the edges of the herd. His breath is warm against her skin, and there is nothing but the gentle pressure of his nose leaning against her trembling shoulder when he finally does touch her. Despite all expectations that the stallion had, certain that she would disappear into the underbrush of the forest, she reaches tentatively towards him, her nose finding a soft spot between his neck and his shoulder, and there her touch rests. For a moment, they stood reaching out towards each other, and as Owl starts to instinctively groom at his skin, is shoulder twitches and he leans briefly into the touch, rather enjoying the fleeting moment of attention that she was giving him.

Deciding to return the favour, Vercingetorix moves his mouth upwards, able to easily reach at the woman's withers thanks to their close proximity, and there he settles his teeth, rubbing at a patch of skin at the foot of her mane at the top of her shoulders. In the morning silence, the stallion is comforted and content with their little exchange of physical contact.