Happily, he could live and thrive amongst the great wooded halls of forest under the command of a woman.

Through his years he had learned that mares were not creatures to be trifled with, and they were as stalwart warriors as they were mothers and lovers. Women, often to pick amongst themselves their social placement, were the lifeblood of a herd, leaving the men to their devices. Which often meant child-siring and border-patrolling.

It was these plain tasks that Vercingetorix was happy to perform. Though he suspected that he was unlikely to be wooing any woman to be found under the thumb of the roan mare.

“I shall busy myself about earning their trust then.” He swears to her with a nod, preferring to let a woman busy herself with the politics and negotiations that were a key part of running a herd. Happily, when he was previously parading the borders of the forest with the land protected under his name, he had let the inhabitants of the forest peck at themselves to determine who would be their leader. Sadly, nothing had ever come to fruition, and he could only assume that his lovers and children had disappeared into the wind.

Though perhaps the timing had been right, as whatever bloodshed had happened here had missed him and his kin, and it had stained the reputation of the forest. Persephone speaks of war, and the dun pushes his ears back, remembering the crude way that his father tried to violently overthrow all the kingdoms around him. “He was wrong. Men grow jealous at the success of others- and in my experience anyone hailing from the Lagoon is a deluded fool.” During his time, they had been violent and lecherous knaves, trying to get under the skin of others and treating women as though they were not more than meat to be chewed on.

“I’m sorry.” He laments, as if he could have prevented it. “War does things to people- to places. I hope these men will have their just desserts.” The taste of war is still fresh in his mouth, even though he had been little more than a child when his father had struck out against the others. Vercingetorix remembers, and he hates it all the more in his advanced age. “I will do my best to help you where I can, Persephone.”