The mare obviously did not hail from a traditional herd, or rather, not from the kind of traditional herds that Olaf was used to. While most would have gone as he directed by now, this mare continued to stand her ground. He was larger and stronger and, as a mature stallion, had the canine teeth capable of leaving a hefty mark of her red hide. It was a testament to her bravery that she faced him instead of just going as he directed her - not that he actually planned on leaving any marks on her. Perhaps she was calling his bluff or perhaps she really just didn't care if he did leave a mark.

Olaf was pleased that the gods had favoured him by having this mare’s path cross his. She would be a strong addition to the herd, fearless and well adapted to the harsh environment they found themselves in. She could be an important and integral member of the herd if she settled enough not to try and run at any given opportunity. The challenge of keeping her contained could be a challenge he would enjoy immensely – so long as she did not lose her fire in the process. It was not fulfilling to have someone around who could not be themselves. Olaf kept them together for their safety and because he enjoyed their company – and hoped they enjoyed his and each other’s – but they were free do as they pleased. He was the protector but the mares called the shots within the herd…most of the time.

Olaf could defend his home just fine but the shifting sands could be treacherous to those unfamiliar with the territory. Getting lost in a seemingly never-ending sea of sand with the unrelenting sun on your back and no sign of water could be a death sentence; not to mention the freezing cold nights. It was safe near the water sources where there was ample food and shelter – and his protection.

Olaf snorted at the mare’s words, not bothering to apologise or explain himself because there was nothing to explain or apologise for. ”There will time for talk when we reach the oasis”, he may have continued to tell her that she could continue the way she had been going, towards only sand and death but that would be a waste of words and a scenario he had no intention of allowing to come to fruition.

The mare turned then, moving in the direction he had pushed her and he eased off. So long as she went as directed, he did not need to ramp up his attempts to get her there faster. The sands moved beneath his weight, but it was nothing he could not handle and as they began to reach the outskirts of the oasis, the earth turned solid beneath their hooves. His caramel eyes studied her as carefully as they walked, watching for signs of her making a break for it.

Olaf’s ears began to perk up as they made their way into familiar ground, the tension and aggression beginning to melt a little now that she was safely with the rest of the herd. ”I am Olafur Wolfheart. What is your name, kona?”