Meadow

“A bully?” Psychedelic’s voice echoed with amusement, and a smile pulled over his lips after. A chuckled breath left through his nostrils and he shook his head, fighting through the grin to try and think of what to say. He could tell her she had no idea the kind of bully she was talking to. Those times of rowdy behavior, where he’d let himself free of inhibitions to reap what havoc he could so shuffled through his mind too quickly to land on any one in particular, but they all hit a certain note of satisfaction.

Some horses he’d crossed paths with did nothing to evoke the rage he unleashed. Some were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But others… others pushed and prodded until his resolve snapped, and he’d never tell them how close he was to cracking until it was too late.

“Let me guess,” he said, careful of his sore shoulder as he gingerly adjusted his weight, hating how mortal and aged he felt by the excessive traveling he’d done, “either you’re a Peak mare who hates stallions for whatever reason gets your jollies or,” he fought to swallow back bitterness at the reality, careful not to show that he cared if it was true or not- “-You had a conversation with a pale little mare who told you I told her to hide and not talk to anyone while I was gone?”

It was difficult to put it so plainly, as if it didn’t bother him. As if his blood wasn’t boiling under his skin and he didn’t want to rush into the trees to find where his daughter was and give her a sharp, hard nip for disobeying him. Why was Talya making this so complicated on him? He had enough enemies on the islands to worry about without some strange, unknown mare joining the fray.

Sometimes he really missed the days when he used to refuse to be responsible for anybody but himself. Those days were so much easier.