Meadow

The mare to approach the group after Faolain had arrived did so quietly, more predator in her stride than prey. One might have mistaken her for a panther if their only perception of her was movement and coat. Faolain appraised her with calculating eyes as she slipped through the meadow and into the space the first three mares had created. Faolain made note of the disregard of social boundaries, but reserved judgment and felt neither offense nor respect for the action. Her gaze also slipped over the other two mares, observing their reactions, realizing there was a chemistry between the slender mare Faolain had nearly run into and the newcomer.

Faolain had the grace and fluidity of the black mare but none of the predatory undertones of her movement. There was calculated boldness in the akhal-teke’s step. The newcomer struck her as catlike, while Faolain thought of herself as holding energetic resemblance to a jackal, or perhaps a pack of them. With this calculated boldness Faolain stepped around her narrowly avoided casualty and joined the gentler mare on Yahzeen’s other side.

Faolain was not gentle herself, and had no desire to stop the two as they began to tear at each other, but she had to somewhat admire the grulla’s attempt to split up the fight. Do you like to act like disobedient fools? the motherly mare snapped, and Faolain chuckled. “It seems clear they do. They must be young,” she said to the grulla mare, her voice and her expression flat, emotionless, though she wanted to sneer. She had not seen any sort of instigation, no reason for this fight to happen, so she watched it silently and without comment, thinking it was rather foolish, or that perhaps these two already knew each other and were just sparring. This seemed unlikely; fury rippled beneath the coats of both fighting mares and their eyes rolled with monstrous rage. This scuffle was not friendly. Practice fighting was wise for any horse to make a habit of, but randomly attacking strangers, in Faolain’s opinion, was not. The inky little mare was not a very emotional individual, and very rarely did she experience anger or frustration, or feel the need for a release, and as such she would never truly understand the purpose of this battle in front of her. Still, she knew of the existence of such feelings and needs, even if she deemed them ultimately unnecessary.

“They’ll get it out of their systems,” she assured the older mare beside her. “Just let them go at it a while.”

i heard him howling
as he passed me by