Silence stretches between them. Kendry’s twisting ears hear nothing nearby save the occasional skittering claws of a squirrel rushing across a bough and, intermittently in the distance, the cries of warring horses. His hindquarters remain flexed, and the tableau holds. Wind blusters through his forelock, lifting his mane from his neck, but Kendry’s blue eyes remain focused on the bachelor standing across from him. He is no slave to impulse. He waits, patient, to hear the other out.
His ears twitch in surprise when the other speaks of Shenzi. Kendry relaxes, shifting his weight to a more comfortable stance and letting his head hang a bit to indicate he is no longer a threat. “I know Shenzi.” He remembers the seal brown mare who joined him in the Lagoon’s waters and told him of this war— her words regarding pride still resound within him. She knows where to look for me, even if I do not succeed today.
“She is a friend of mine. I would be remiss in complicating her departure from the Lagoon, but I have reason to believe she is already gone from there. When I spoke to her in midsummer she told me she, too, had no reason to stay. She called this war folly,” he recalls with a lopsided grin.
But he sobers rapidly. “I am Kendry. I was once of the Lagoon, both as a youth and more recently, but I have found it to be a damning place. All who live there are marked the same regardless of their personal values, with no opportunity to prove themselves to be better than vile. If you are a bachelor, you are condemned in the eyes of others.” So has been his experience. The memory of Bozena’s disgust twists his heart afresh. He exhales through the pain in his chest, so much deeper than the bruising caused by his assault on the other, and reaches his muzzle toward the other in an offering of peace. He wonders how Ruger would view his actions, and his words. Would the leader of the Thicket believe he witnessed betrayal, or would he recognize Kendry setting the foundation for a brighter future?
It is no accident that he has come across this specific individual today. The odds that the first bachelor he encountered would also be a friend to Shenzi are remarkably slim. Kendry does not dismiss this opportunity. He leans into it and makes the stallion his offer again, this time without the pressure of a pending attack. “If you mean what you say, join me. You do not seem cut from the same cloth that shrouds your brothers. You are thoughtful in your reply, and a friend to Shenzi. I do not think you and I are enemies.”
The great draft desires to build a reputable herd. As of yet he has no land, but the Thicket is not the only stepping stone to that goal. If he must look elsewhere, so be it, but he cannot resist at this moment to explicitly invite the first into his ranks. More will follow: Gnome, and Shenzi, and untold others— Kendry’s heart beats strong with his belief in fate, and he regards the black and white patched male before him with crystalline eyes. |