Indian Hemp's own coat was unique in his homeland as well. This is how his step-father knew so immediately that he was a bastard child and what stallion had really sired him. Indian Hemp has never seen another horse quite like himself, save for the frightening, spotted buckskin he encountered on the Crossing. Spotted patterns were rare, and so were pale colours and dilutes. Sehrish would have stood out in the grasslands too, a bright, white beacon amongst a sea of bays, chestnuts and duns. Indian Hemp's step father was a solid bay. He had not a speck of white to break the richness of his mahogany coat. His mother was chestnut, though she wore one short, hind stocking and a misshapen star. Indian Hemp never met his real father, but Cliff Lion was a black leopard, much like himself. There was much discrimination against Indian Hemp, all because of his colour. It painted him as the illegitimate son he was. His step-father's dislike leeched into the rest of the herd. Indian Hemp received much torment because of this, and because he was different. He's glad for the variety seen here on the islands. It means his children might not suffer the same fate he did.

After a rough start in life, Indian Hemp is finally starting to find happiness. He has found a place, under Vercingetorix, where he can feel belonging. He has found two beautiful mares that accept him for who he is, but most of all, he has discovered the joy in his daughter's existence. With this new-found happiness, Indian Hemp has begun to heal. He is losing some of the nervous habits he once had. He no longer shies at every sound. He no longer misinterprets every word spoken to him, and he no longer flinches at every touch. Indian Hemp continues to graze contentedly through Sehrish's ministrations. She gives a gentile nudge and the spotted stallion snorts into the grass. He watches her through the corner of his eye, then lifts his head as she rests her own upon his haunch. "Others? What do you mean?", he asks, confused by her ramblings. Without thinking, Indian Hemp presses his muzzle to the grey mare's flank, enjoying the comfort of her smell.