15.3hh - Gypsy Vanner - Lead of the Inlet

Time was ticking. Lately Pagan had become more conscious of the passing of time. Every moment he had spent in his land over the winter was a moment he spent alone, in the cold, without another body to press against for warmth and comfort. Now that the sun warmed his hide and life returned to the lands he had ventured off his island in search for the companionship his species craved. The moment his hooves touched the water and he began swimming he was aware that every moment he was away was one that another stallion could walk onto his territory and believe it was theirs. The loneliness had taken its grip on his mind and his soul, he was driven to find an end to it.

The gypsy pulled himself onto the sands of this new island, shaking the water from his thick mane and white back. As the water created rivulets down his honey colored legs into his feathered feet he studied the island to try to decide where he wanted to go. The scent of other horses drew him toward the prairie, his hunger for herdlife clenching deep in his gut.

Another stallion’s scent hit him hard at the border of the prairie. The polite stallion halted before he entered the land and raised his voice in a call to the herd leader he wished to speak to. He held himself at calm attention, as non-threatening as he could. No harm was meant, Pagan merely wanted to talk to this stallion, possibly strike a deal.

PAGAN