He had taken to the trees. They did not have faces, and their voices were those of the rustling trees. In the quiet of autumn, he found solace. As the leaves began to fall from branches like ashes, and the herd had seemed to grow restless with the prospect of there being more children and a stallion that opted to remain at the edges of the group, Vercingetorix was glad to find that the forest was still quiet closer to the fringes of the terrain.

Breathing in, he absorbed the musty air of the forest and watched as a few, lonely leaves of orange fell away from the sky and settled gently on the ground near his feet. Everything was quiet, and the air felt damp- a distant promise of a storm that would come in the following days. For now, the forest appeared to be in a soft, gentle lull, remaining precariously perched at the edge of the powerful winds and rains that would soon be upon them. Moving through the trees, the stallion made towards the creek that cut it's way through his home, knowing that a certain spotted stallion would be lingering there, perhaps alone or perhaps with his own slowly growing family.

It seemed that the red dun was seeking the company of a creature that was not entirely plagued by the heat of their own estrus. Seeking out Indian Hemp also seemed to be a good idea, being that it seemed right to ask the man how things were going, and if, perhaps, his women should like to seek shelter with the main body of the herd once winter arrived.

Finding the edge of the creek, the stallion stands and waits for a moment or two before stooping his head to drink from the clear, cool water, waiting for the appearance of the spotted stallion.

male, red dun, ee aa Dd, crossbreed, 15.1 hh.
mordred x blackwort.