stallion | yearling | arabian mutt | red roan | 14.3 hh | the lagoon | rade x fatalé

The roan boy was certain that the palomino had swam this way. His arabian stamina was thanked many times as he had attempted to follow the horse that his father had attacked. The scene was fresh in his mind, but it had taken several weeks before he had the courage to attempt to follow him. There was no way to know where he was going to end up, but when he arrived on the shore of the Paradise he figured he was somewhere close to right.

His father had said Kasabien was from Atlantis. And Léon had done his best to keep that smell in mind. He’d come under the cover of night - mostly to avoid his parents. His mother, well, Fatalé probably would not have minded his leaving. He was an adult now by all accounts, more than capable of handling himself. In her opinion at least. Considering the way that Rade had treated both Kasabien and the golden visitor, the roan doubted the man liked Atlantis. But there was little to think beyond that.

What was he going to do if he found the golden horse? Léon didn’t know. He shook the water from his coat anyway, amber eyes glanced about. He was quite unsure of what to do from here. Even if he were from the Lagoon, he was here for his own state of mind.

Questions he couldn’t ask his father.

Questions he felt he needed answers for.

At least, that is what he justified the nagging feeling that the golden mare had been right. The herds looked at the Lagoon as intruders. Well, he wasn’t there on Lagoon business. And other stallions would just have to believe that or not.

He trotted up the beach and looked about. The air was heavy, not unlike his swampy home. But the weight of the air was added to because the heat of the day still seemed trapped. He carefully continued up the beach, feeling more and more like the thief he claimed to be. But no. He was here for answers and answers alone.

Amber eyes spotted movement disappearing into the under hanging jungle. An inhabitant? That would be where he started his search. He fought the urge to let out a call, instead surging forward with an easy, floating gait. Like the cat he was named for, the arabian mutt had learned how to be light on those hooves of his. It was a dark shadow he seemed to chase, and a more primitive part of him enjoyed it. It did not enter the young man’s mind that he could be chasing a panther or jungle animal.

“Excuse me!” he called. “Excuse me!” all he could hope was the get the shadow’s attention before he became hopelessly lost in the unfamiliar land. More thoughts that hadn’t occurred to him until that moment.