For all the distractions that Bacardi had faced, the stallion had not forgotten the bay and white mare that he had brought home from the Commons. He watches her (especially when he thinks she is not looking), typically finding a smile curling upon his lips due to her antics. Her lively personality was such a hard contrast to the Bay; like the sun verses the moon. Though Bacardi hadn’t always been the stoic kind as he appeared to be, his memory flitting back to the time he had raced across this very territory with Havelle. Responsibility had a way of changing one. Sometimes for the better, but often times for the worse.


When a sharp cry pieces the quiet, it jolts Bacardi from his own chaotic thoughts. Valka, Kesja, Falda, Rade, The Lagoon; it was all silenced as he looked from his mountain top ledge where he most often stood sentry, seeing Twinge break away from the others to lash out at the air. Was she angry? As he continued to watch her, taking a cautionary step forward to attempt a better view, he saw how she moved across the rock, much and snow strew land and realized that it was more likely the mare was bored. Guilt instantly tightened it’s hold on the stallion, digging in it’s claws until he found himself hurrying down the mountain trail. His hooves sending rocks scattering and rolling down ahead of him until he had finally reached the bottom.


Breaking into a canter, Bacardi could not belief (for a brief moment) the freedom he felt. The way the wind tossed up his mane and whipped out his tail. How the crisp breeze buffeted against his face. All too soon it was over as he reached the mare. Pulling up so that he didn’t run into her. A deep rumbling nicker crawled its way out of his lips, his nose reaching out to bump against her shoulder while his lupine eyes searched her own. Would she forgive him for his neglect? Or would she suddenly say goodbye?

five years. mutt. bay tobiano. fourteen three hands. of the bay.

"...speech"