Khar found herself in quite the mess. Damn that Raider.

She knew better. She should have stayed in the peaks, offered to stand guard with the other younger mares and older ones no longer fit to fight. She had wanted to badly to prove to herself and to the others that she was strong... that she was fierce. She wanted to be seen for the powerful and beautiful creature she was. She had not felt the burning desire for victory. She had not needed to see their cause victorious. She had simply come to play a part. It started out fine enough, she landed a few hard hits of her own, a few horses would bare marks from her hooves and scrapes from her teeth. She had started to feel a sense of accomplishment.

And then Raider appeared.

She had let him back her into a corner in the unfamiliar lands. She blamed her injuries, the smoke colored stallion managed to gain the upper hand. She blamed the cursed lands unfamiliar to her own hooves and mind. Whatever the true reason the damned stallion had bested her and drug her screaming back to the lagoon as his prisoner. Prisoner and trinket.

It had not taken him long to clamber upon her back. He had not left her side for fear that she might escape him. Again and again he had taken her beneath him, forcing his seed into her womb until the heat of autumn disappeared from her skin. Despite her disgust and hatred, Khar could begin to feel the life forming within her belly. She would bare his foal. She threatened him with words of murder, and he retaliated with kicks and well placed bites.

Since the passing of her heat, the damned lagoon general seemed to find other things far more interesting than herself. Her injured fetlock still hobbled her feet and kept her from fleeing with the agile grace and ease that she was sure would free her. If there was one thing about the lagoon, the men patrolled their borders frequently. "Must expect their trinkets to try and escape this hellhole. she snorts, talking more to herself than to anyone else. Ears fall backwards amid the wisps of alabaster mane. Of course they were watching. It was the only way they would ever fill their ranks... steal mares to add to their breeding stock. Not like stallions could handle childbirth. The thought amused her, seeing Raider sprawled upon the ground, writhing in pain as wave after wave of contraction came upon him. It would serve him right. If only it were possible.

Absently she drops her muzzle to snatch a mouthful of grass between her teeth. As with the pregnancy of Thara the unrelinquishing hunger seemed to constantly grip her, feeding the unborn nourishments that otherwise Khar was determined to deny. Tentatively she tests her hind leg, shifting her weight to value the bones ability to bare her weight. Anyday.... anyway she tells herself. She would find a way to escape and then Raider would feel the force of her fury.

6yrs | mare | Egyptian Arabian | dapple rose gray | 14.2hh | bound to no one | valkyrie of the peak