He was content dispite the bubbling anger in his gut. Nova always found a way to make his anger soar and she knew just how to play his game. Well, she always brought resistance and trouble, something Warsaw fed on. The game was never ending with this black mare. His eyes trace over the filly of light gold. She was nothing he could produce with the black mare. At least their first foal had been darkly colored and this foal was the complete opposite. Warsaw was not very good at guessing genetics, but he wonders why Ironclad was so cream colored. Vita Nova's coat was smokey to this mare's who was as black as night. That must have something to do with it.

But he was certain this filly wasn't his.

Her scent was different than his other foals born this season. He knew there would be one bad egg of the bunch and thos was her. Nova was quick to respond to his words, but she spits which sends Warsaw throwing his weight back and raising his front end up. He yells, throws his front legs around wildly, before crashing back to the ground. Nova positions herself over her sleeping child. He notes her body placement. He would rape her now if she was closer, but he knew a mare that juet gave birth was extra vicious.

She taunts him, making his already resisting mind more hard to bare. Her words taunt him. Mocha eyes narrow and his lips smack together angrily. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." She would carry his seed again as soon as breeding season was back upon them. He would decide what to do with the filly then, but it the meantime she would be able to raise her daughter in fear. "I will break you. Just wait." A snarl leaves his lips as he watches her. One day...she would cower in his prescence and do whatever he told her to.