The wait for this damned war to be over has been unbearable. Gent has been alternating between dull boredom and restless anxiety, his mind and legs constantly itching to go, go, go, but there is little he can do now that things are in motion and most of the bachelors are across the sea. The heady scents of breeding season had provided a merciful distraction for a time - as had the reunion with his family - but there is only so much mare-chasing to be done, even for Gent, and his family have their own lives to live.

All he can do now is wait.

Freshly returned from his latest journey to the commons, Gent situates himself near the water, where a cool breeze gently rustles the thick tangle of his forelock. From afar he appears peaceful as he grazes the dying grass, but as ever, his mind is spinning from thought to thought, finally landing on the Peak and how his family are doing there. Then - as though the fates have heard him - the wind shifts, and he catches a familiar scent. Gent lifts his head, and as if by magic, there she is.

Something keeps bringing them together.

Gent stares for a moment, his blue eyes wide with bewilderment, and then a delighted smirk twists at his lips. He stands quietly, simply watching her for a few moments, not quite believing she’s here… and then she moves, and he sees how she favors one leg. A dark cloud passes over his features. What happened to her? Who brought her here? Where is the child he had seen with her in the Peak?

Gent moves forward to approach her head-on, then gets a better idea and changes direction, slipping into the trees before she can see him. He travels in a wide arc around her, then approaches from the rear as quietly as he can, his heart pounding with the thrill of mischief. When he’s finally close enough, he stops behind her and breaks the silence.

“You know, we can’t keep running into each other like this,” he says, laughter dancing in his eyes.