Amaranthe’s ears twitched slightly when the stallion mentioned his years on the common island. Memory of the swampy smell of the stallion tickled in the back of her mind. It created a bad taste in her mouth. The lands of The Crossing were tainted in her mind. Part of her wondered if this young stallion had ever been with the band of ‘brothers’ Fallo had so proudly talked about. She snorted, as if doing so would clear her thoughts and the rancid back taste of bitterness.Whether Nephilim were young or not, had lived in the Lagoon or not, he was here now and she had given him her loyalty. At least until he earned otherwise.


The mare listened patiently, following his lead. As they moved and their hooves crunched on the ground, she took note of the land’s features. It was trails they kept to, and she wondered if he had thought of trying the less clear routes around his territory. Paths were fine for personal safety and for getting a herd from one place to another clearly and directly. But they were also easy routes for intruders. To know a land, she felt as though one had to know how to hide in the land. As Nephilim ticked off the attributes of each island he had heard about, she tried to store them in her mind. A few of the places she had lost interest in immediately, but she pondered a few with far more pleasant curiosity. It seemed as though she would have done well to explore before settling in the Bay, but she also felt as though she could eventually come to call this place her home. She nodded in acknowledgement of the presence of other horses here, their scents lingering while others had grown old under the snow.


“What are you intentions when you cross paths with the stallion of the Inlet?” She asked curiously, her voice holding the barest hint of concern. If the stallion were full grown, and anything less than friendly and understanding, he could wipe the ground with the colt’s face. Her interest ran deeper than that of a warrior whose loyalty had been earned by a leader. Somehow she did not want to see this colt’s dreams of being head stallion dashed before he could be seen as a legitimate threat to other stallions. She snorted in her mind, confused by these thoughts. Her ears swivelled in silent distaste at her own thoughts. Pregnancy, it seemed, was doing weird things to her thought process. She did not like it.

AMARANTHE

MARE :: FRIESIAN :: 15.3hh :: BLACK