Just like mom-rock Vela, the golden mare doesn't listen right away either.
Typical, he thinks to himself, ears pinned tightly to his nape. Unlike the mom-rock he is used to, however, this one doesn't turn to fight him right away and doesn't climb up the steep rocky slope with the same ease as his dam. This one tries, but it is evident from the way her hooves scramble over the stones that she is not familiar with this land.
Again he dives forward, doing his best to convince her to
try, and then is forced to dodge as she launches a kick at him. He squeals in defiance, half expecting her to round on him as mom-rock did, but she did not. Instead, she did as he commanded, trotting forward with her tail tucked tightly to her rump and her whole body tense with unease.
The boy's face softened in surprise and he stared in amazement as she moved forward like he'd told her to do, his jaw slack as his feet fell still. Mom-rock Vela usually moved when he bothered her, but it was never without a fight and only accidentally in the direction he'd told her to go. At the same time, a feeling of triumph swelled up in his chest and his tiny neck bowed into a tight arch as he pranced after her.
He was doing it. Rafe would be so proud of him when he showed off his second mom-rock!
"Home," he said far more kindly, although his gaze still narrowed at her in suspicion, waiting for the defiance to show up.
"We go home."
He trotted a few more paces forward, still keeping himself at her hip in case she tried to double back. He wasn't quite sure what he would do if she tried to defy him again (up close it was easier to see that she was big enough to hurt him if she wanted to), and so tried to soften his earlier pushiness the way he'd seen his father do with his collection.
"I'm Raegar," he said with a gesture toward his chest. He was pretty sure that was his name anyway. Rafe used it an awful lot more than mom-rock Vela did, but he was pretty certain it belonged to him.
"What's your name?" The question could have masqueraded as a learned social construct as the exchanging of names was generally one of the basic things a child learned, but for Raegar it was less of a learned action and more of a curiosity. He needed to know what to call his newest herd member.
So long as she was compliant, he tried not to be rude in guiding her steadily toward the canyons of the Badlands to where his own dam waited. If she refused, however, the same tiny tyrant that had launched himself at her with snapping teeth and stomps would return.