15.3hh - Gypsy Vanner - Lead of the Inlet


Suspicious eyes looked between the stallion and the mare that had arrived at his side. Both of these other horses sported thin coats, lithe bodies, and lean builds made for running and agility. His agitation at the random entrance to his home subsided even more as he came to realize that neither of these two visitors would last long in winter’s grasp on this island. Both other horses showed signs of nervousness at him, and the gypsy regretted his initial approach. Strangers to this island and to this land should be welcomed and helped instead of threatened and bit at. Isolation and cold, he figured, had stolen who he was and hidden who he wanted to be. This island was cold most months of the year, who was he to add to the bitterness and uncaring nature of the world around them. In the dead of winter, there should have been a warmth and a fire, a constant spring in the land of changing temperament.

He studied two before him more, his ears falling with concern at the other stallion’s words. None like these horses had been to his shores for the seasons he had been there, and he doubted they would have been there long. He thought back to his times on the Crossing and scanned his memory. There had only been one mare who could have been similar to the two who visited, ,but she had claimed to be new and had seemed to be as well. He lowered his head in concern.
”Sister? I don’t believe I have seen anyone who could be your sister. His past bubbled faintly in his mind, the fires sparking briefly in his eyes. ”Tell me about her? I can try to help find her.

PAGAN