He had been idle far too long, a phantom figure lingering around the edge of the forest, pacing the fringes and weaving restlessly between the thinning trees, unceasing in his wanderings. The stallion he’d met on the larger, central isle, had sent him here. To listen. To learn. And he had learned much in his time here. Watched from a distance. Hovered largely out of reach of the herds that lived in the forest, and the tangled thicket and rolling fields of grass that bordered the forest herd’s territory to the north and to the east. The stallion was a stranger, and an unbelonger to this terrain, built for the desert as he was. But he was ever vigilant, even in the woods were vision was obscured by so many things. And he was careful to keep to himself, giving no cause for any to see him as a threat.

Largely, he lingered along the southwest coastline, only trailing the borders between territories in the quiet hours of night. Kahraman retreated to solitude when the woods came alive with movement, passing time alone on the barren, open southern tip of the island. Whenever he slept he’d dream of sweeping desert plains, but his rest was always light, always fleeting. He grew anxious in the waiting, and though he was not one to give in to doubt so readily, the cremello ‘Teke was beginning to wonder if the golden brute who’d taken his ear would ever show.

A sardonic smile curled up the corners of his pink lips now, as he lay on his solitary patch of sand, legs tucked neatly beneath him, looking out over the sea. The moon was high, painting the caps of the waves silver. There was something on the air this night. Out here, especially by the moonlight, Kahraman gleamed like a beacon, and so, to minimise the risk of being spotted, he’d settled himself behind a rolling hill of sand, which kept him largely out of sight. But with a sudden, fluid motion he rose to his hooves, stretching the muscles of his legs as he loped forwards a few strides, splashing into the shallows. There was something…

Kahraman snorted as a sudden thrill of exhilaration flooded his veins, white hot and searing. It was beginning. With a toss of his sparse mane, the interloper took off thundering up the beach, his hooves sinking into the damp sand and sending out a spray behind him. Finally, an end to his waiting, and a renewal of a sense of purpose. He’d not dwelt too much upon the why, but rather he focused on what he could do. He’d been so lost when the golden brute had found him. Cast out of home, with a death sentence hanging over him. He could never go home. He had nothing, nothing…

By the time he made his way to the clearing, the attack was already underway. Kahraman watched from the space he occupied between two trees, a silent and scrutinising observer. Here and there, individuals or small groups peeled off and fled. Kahraman scanned the writhing wrestling bodies, searching only for one… He knew some of the forest herd by sight, having watched over them from a distance all this time, but he knew not what this fight was for, nor who had followed the gold warrior.

And suddenly there he was, pale mane flyaway, white-marked face bright where it passed through a dappled patch of moonlight. A shrill cry, carried by a lungful of air from his chest, left Kahraman’s maw, ringing clear across the clamour in the clearing. Kahraman stood tall, waiting for the palomino male to seek him out. Kahraman would hover at the edge of the fray until the Lagoon Boss could make his way to him, and then…

And then Kahraman would prove himself useful.

He could only hope it would be worth it, and bring him that sense of belonging he’d been yearning for ever since his father had wished him dead.