With winter’s frost melting and spring soon to arrive, Zevulun decided it was time to stop wallowing in his sorrows within the Prairie and do as he should as a leader: encourage its growth. Though Bacardi was not technically an enemy, it still worried Zevulun to have someone share his borders who wasn’t on friendly terms. Neither of his sons were interested in stepping into the empty space Balor had left, but Zevulun knew he needed to find someone he could trust to share his home with. The Prairie was too beautiful and abundant a place for him to allow it to go quiet. He was not meant to be a singular leader and even this brief stint of trying it out proved he never would be.
For the first time in a long time the pale stallion struck into the cold surf with the specific goal of bringing back someone to settle and live in the Prairie. Whether it was a mare or, if he was lucky enough, a stallion whose ideals and personality meshed well enough with his to maybe consider inviting him to the Prairie as a second. This may have been one of the only times Zevulun was traveling to Crossing Isle with more of an interest in finding a stallion to bring home than a mare, which might’ve made him laugh if he realized it himself.
Crossing Isle greeted him first on the shores nearer the Peak, but Zevulun did not take a detour to visit his aunt. He would need to soon, as he’d decided to tell her he was no longer interested in being her outside herd source for Peak mischief. He had enough to handle in taking care of his immediate family and keeping them safe. He’d been a fool to think he could (or even should) push himself beyond that. The Peak business was the Peak’s business, not his.
That would be a discussion for another day. The Prairie lead wound his way down the shoreline until he came closer to the neutral grounds, turning and moving further inland. He considered the Commons, then almost immediately decided against it, and made instead for the Meadows. The last thing he needed right now was to get caught up in some drama with another stallion that may be pursing an unclaimed mare. In the past he would have felt it was his duty to double-check and make sure they weren’t so he could be there to save them, but he wasn’t trying to save strangers today. He was trying to save his family.
Though they wouldn’t be in their complete splendor as they would in a few weeks’ time when everything begun to bloom, he could already see the signs of winter packing her things and preparing to move out. The trees that’d lost their leaves were filled with new buds and the snow was nearly all but melted, aside from scattered piles cloaked in shade. Zevulun trailed along their trunks rather than make for the open center, enjoying the subtle crunch of the ice under his hooves.
He was surprised there weren’t more horses out and about, assuming with the change in weather coming he’d have more success in finding others to potentially invite home. With a disappointed snort the cream stallion turned further into the tree line, walking past a couple large trees before they opened into a moderately sized circular pocket, where the sun could shine boldly down and clearly had been. The snow was melted away, there was new spring grass already poking through, and some of the flowers had begun to bloom early as well.
None of that was what Zevulun noticed immediately, though. Instead, he came to an abrupt halt as he realized he’d walked in on another horse’s resting grounds and, by the smell of them, it was a stallion. “Sorry,” he offered, trying not to immediately assume he was so lucky as to have literally found the stallion he’d want to invite to the Prairie, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just taking a shortcut.” A brief pause and then, “I’m Zevulun, lead of Luthien’s Prairie.”
Maybe if he offered his name and home, the stranger would as well, and then Zevulun would know for sure whether he could study this stallion as a potential future herdmate.
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