He approached her like a panther stalking its prey. His head was low to the ground, his movements slow and steady, and his eyes fixed on only the young mare. Mochas traced her delicate little curves. She still had some growing to do, but she was old enough. Old enough to learn what being pregnant was like and what a stallion's job was. He couldn't be good all the time and breeding season had his testorune at its peak. He had to spread his lines somewhere or he would attempt rape on all the mares he crossed.

That would not help his case in deceiving Mariael. Perhaps if he worked hard enough she would allow him to mount her and she would produce his heir. Between her, Freya, or Persephone, either one of those Queens would work. He was soon upon her as she traveled inland and came to a stop. He came from her right side and tried to keep quiet to sneak up on what he wanted. Eyes landed on her rump, but the loud snap of a twig breaking underneath his hooves broke the cold silence.

Crap. His posture quickly changed in hopes he would appear more friendly when she looked his way. "What seems to be the problem little miss?" You lose your Mommy? He made the decision not to say that last part. It was probably not good idea to joke around when she looked so frantic. He straightened up his posture again to stand tall and strong. Eyes swiftly roamed over the land behind her. "You are safe here."