As soon as Jörmungandr finds the stallion and warns him away from the herd, an unknown mare positions herself between them. The buckskin had intended to give the wounded male enough time to turn and leave, not planning to attack him unless he pressed further forwards. She is somewhat taken aback then, and frankly enraged, by the red mare’s aggression towards her – proof that intruders often meant harm. The buckskin narrows her eyes, scoffing at the conflicting nature of the mare’s words versus her actions, and the beginning of a cut-off insult on the stallion’s lips.

She is about to correct the mare when the familiar voice of Lyden breaks her concentration. While she doesn’t think the stallion can do much damage physically, even if he was backed into a corner, the danger his injured presence invites is far more pressing. Jörmungandr snorts at the weak stallion’s words and regards him and his mare coolly. ”You are not welcome here.” she informs them, ”Regardless of the harm may or may not intend, you are attracting predators. Leave.”

She is aware painfully aware of Meradith’s presence on the sidelines (as well as the restless colt who paced back and forth), a reminder what is at stake. The herd foals who cannot so easy fight off predators should they come. Macabre, her stallion and their foal do not matter as much as her own family, though that does not make her completely heartless. She hopes they can survive….just well away from her here.