15.3hh - Gypsy Vanner - Lead of the Inlet


It was about time. Almost two seasons has passed since Pagan had come to call the Inlet his home. He had weathered the winter and survived it. Now in the spring, he flourished with his land. He had always been aware that another stallion was just beyond his borders, having caught traces of him on his rounds. There had even been that brief encounter in the Crossing where their paths had crossed ever so briefly. They had both had time to learn their territories and become comfortable in their realms. It was time to learn who each other was.

The stallion followed one of the springs that snaked its way into his neighbor’s territory. He was thankful the waters cut clearer paths to their borders, as opposed to taking the high road of the mountains that were riddled with rifts, crags, and cliffs. His large feathered hooves sunk into the waterbeds, parting the weathered stones into the ground. At times, he picked up his pace to a trot, if only to keep himself occupied. Once he reached the border, Pagan lifted his voice politely to let the other stallion know he was coming. He followed the stream a little further into the territory, figuring his counterpart would feel more comfortable and open to conversation in a place more familiar.

He called again, to let the other know he had changed positions slightly. Standing beside the running water, the painted knight waited patiently for Nephiliam, his curiosity starting to run through his head. To him, there was no need for violence or strife. The island they had come to inhabit was harsh enough on its own, why should those who live on it add to its dangers? He hoped the other young stallion would be agreeable.

PAGAN