Ruger pulled himself from the salty water of the sea, onto the shores of the Crossing, just as the light breached the horizon into the sky. The morning was chilled with the new season but his mind was too preoccupied to notice the cold creeping through his thick soaked coat as water rolled off him. Each step made purposefully, he strode through the meadow first and then into the Falls. As the roaring sound of the falling water reached his ebony rimmed ears, did his heart start to hammer a little harder.
It was time to take Zimri home.
But instead of the tall, athletic, blue roan mare standing there, it was a black and white mare instead. The brute drew up short and he looked at her with darkening amber eyes, a rumbled snort escaping his nares in annoyance. Rather than say something to the stranger, Ruger moved off to the side a bit and lowered his head down to the water as he reached it. The water felt good sliding down his throat, washing away the salt that had managed to get there. As he raised his head from the drink, the stallion turned to leave.