Abigail had always been quite a curious, rambunctious little filly. Her father was constantly informed by the mare’s left to watch her that his daughter had gotten into a bit of mischief, which he would reprimand her for and yet, even that had never quenched her wild spirit. It had suppressed it, perhaps, but it certainly been because of that spirit (alongside her anger at his betrayal) that she’d ever left home in the first place; and, because of it, she’d come to Atlantis first rather than Crossing Isle (which she grew to understand was a more traditional way to go about settling in) and now called Paradise her home and Braylen her guardian.
If you asked Abigail, that meant her curious spirit was absolutely perfect! Thus far all it had given her was goodness! So, when she ran up against the border of Paradise for what must have been the umpteenth time, Abigail hesitated and squinted into the neighboring territory. It looked different than Atlantis, which already piqued her interest, but she could smell the scent of a stallion… She looked back to the jungles of Paradise, where she was sure Braylen must be patrolling his borders (or had he gone off to Crossing Isle in hopes of finding new family mates? Abigail couldn’t remember!). Her thick head turned and she looked back to the Ridge, her mind locked in a ping-pong match as to whether or not a lonely exploration into a strange territory would be a good idea…
Oh, what the heck?! Abigail whinnied loudly and surged forward into the territory, blue eyes looking this way and that as she waited to see what or who she might find.
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