Falls

Solomon

There's a weird melancholy to the tableau before him. He'd done similar things with his sons before, on a distant land, but it had been a long time since he'd had a child so young next to him. His initial departure from home had been a part of a quest to steal the daughter of a rival leader, but a months worth of heavy storms in unfamiliar territory had finally dumped his sorry rump into the Lost Isles with no hope of finding his way back. Not that he minded.

He had a good life, but it was a settled life. His family was powerful and no one challenged the status quo. Solomon had his pick of mares, of allies, of territories and it became as bland as eating beach grass day in and day out. Starting over was fresh and new. It excited him in ways he hadn't felt since he was a young colt, just gathering his first mares.

Sauron breaks him from his thoughts and he nods in response, seeing no objection to heading toward the water hole. As they walked, Solomon spoke, his tone calm. "Once you get a drink, we should look for someone who is alone..."

Solomon's voice trails off as he catches sight of the mare as she emerges dramatically from the surf, salt soaked silver mane flying as she collapsed onto the shores of the Falls. "... like her."

He flicks his gaze away from the mare and back to his sabino marked charge, waiting for the colt to finish his drink. They were in no rush, today. Solomon did not hold out much hope that he would find Marzanna today and it was not as though he needed to swell the ranks of the Cove farther. He had more than enough mares and children to keep him busy these days.

When he turns his attention back to the mare, a familiar figure is making his way towards her, although there is no mistaking the scowl that Bjorn sent in their direction. Solomon tamps down the strange mix of mirth and annoyance at this knowledge. If the grullo was so worried about who was spending time with his son, he shouldn't have knocked up the buckskin mare and let her walk away. At the very least, he should have at least kept her on the island with him.

If not from Solomon, how was Sauron going to learn to be anything other than a coddled momma's boy?

Sol tamps down this reaction, choosing instead to flick the long strands of his caramel tail against his hocks and turn toward the two beachside creatures. "Looks like your father's decided to make an appearance. Let's say hello."

Considering how highly the colt spoke of his father in the Cove, Sol doubts that there will be anything other than joy on his face at seeing the grullo. The tobiano wouldn't deny that he wasn't fond of Bjorn's parenting habits in Sauron's case specifically, but he was not going to dissuade the colt from being close to his sire. If for no other reason than that Sol knew the wrath that he would bring down upon anyone who attempted to do the same to him.

The leggy stallion paced toward the pony and mare, one ear still tipped toward the colt he'd brought along with him, reading his reaction to the situation. When at last they are within speaking distance, Solomon casts his glance down toward the pretty mare, though he stays a few paces back. The last interaction he'd had with the pony stallion had devolved into an all out fistfight, and he wasn't inclined to allow the same thing to happen over the downed mare.

Having paced close enough to have heard Bjorn's last garbled comment, Sol's head tips slightly, unsure of what nonsense he had offered to the mare. As he halts, he lets a beat pass before he addresses first Bjorn, and then thinks better of it and turns to the mare. She might not have understood the mess that Bjorn had offered her. "Is she -- are you alright?"

Dutch Harness Horse Mutt | Champagne Grullo Tobiano Stallion | 17 Hands | The Cove