The young stallion was on edge lately. His father was gone - off to war - leaving him and his brother behind with his sick mother and newborn daughter. Letavice felt exposed but also mostly useless. He wasn't just a colt anymore. But he wasn't old, wise, or strong enough to protect anyone from virtually anything. Ironclad seemed to think differently - he was always so proud and confident. Sometimes secretly, Letavice felt a tinge of jealously for his brother. Why couldn't he had been born the boastful, fearless one?
Nevertheless, the lanky grey stud tried to be helpful when he could. His sister, Tavas was here and she was quick to boss him around, but he didn't mind. He almost appreciated the direction she offered. Where Letavice stuttered and stammered, she took the reins and forced control. This place certainly needed that right now. But he still worried. For his dam and his newborn sister - for whatever happened after this war - for his father, and what he might look like when he returned. All of it felt, well, bad.
Tavas had chased him away earlier this morning, with her ears pinned and teeth bared, saying Vita Nova needed her space. Maybe this was one of her bad mornings, Letavice thought as he scampered and squealed his away from the golden mare, hoping to to be out of reach before she could land a bite on his rump. He toiled down the familiar rocky paths forward the beach then, still feeling relatively down about himself and anxious at the same time. That's when he caught the new mare Cherokee talking to a big dark stranger.
A chill ran down the length of his spine, and he looked across the landscape for help, hoping to see Tavas or Ironclad. But neither were around. So instead he heaved a great sigh and tried to will himself to be brave. He trotted awkwardly across the shifting pebbles of the beach, slowing only once he was well within earshot. He bobbed his head to Cherokee - a mare whom his mother had brought here but who he did not know well, before his gaze settled onto the stallion. He caught the last bit of his explanation - that the Lagoon sent him. Letavice wasn't sure if he should feel comforted or worried about this arrangement, and he bat his white tail over his haunches as he thought about it.
Cherokee keeps talking and Letavice merely gives the stallion a bob of his head before speaking quietly. "Thanks for coming."
"I'm Letavice." He offered next. "Our Queen, my dam, is very sick. We can use the help."
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