The fact she called him by name and even offered him a small smile, helped to ease some of Bacardi’s worries. If the Prairie stallion had done any damage to his reputation, then Persephone wouldn’t be so calm upon his arrival. It was hard not to let out a sigh of relief, or to let his shoulders sag; it would cause questions Bacardi didn’t want to answer.


“I’ve decided to come home.” Bacardi replied to the varnish roan mare. “I’ve staked a claim on the Thicket. Hopefully it turns out better than my last endeavor with the Savanna.” The painted stallion had felt completely alone there, and although the Thicket wasn’t overflowing with mares, he did at least have a family now to help warm the otherwise unwelcoming territory.


“It seems we share a few acquaintances. Maeve and Grizel came to the Thicket for a visit. It reminded me that I hadn’t come to see you.” Bacardi said, dipping into the real reason for this meeting. “I was hoping maybe we could strike up the alliance we once had?” the painted stallion had never been very good at beating around the bush. He often thought it was a waste of time, though manners were still important as well. So Bacardi had offered it as politely as he could, hoping he hadn’t rushed through it.

mutt. bay tobiano. fourteen three hands. of the thicket.

"...speech"