He catches the scent of the unfamiliar mare before she calls out. Fell makes his way toward the beach, his pace brisk, but not panicked; he is on edge after his encounter with the mad stallion, but nothing truly disastrous had come of that. In any case, he does not fear the faint perfume of a mare, so he trots through the sap-sticky trunks of the pine forest until he can glimpse her steel-grey coat in the morning light.

He interprets this as a pleasant surprise.

Her whinny rings out through the trees, and Fell slows as he nears her, letting out a rough snort in response. His hooked ears come together above his brow, and voiceless nicker flutters his nostrils as he halts a few feet away. His gaze, hungry and unabashedly interested, crawls over her salt-roughened coat. She shivers, apparently unused to the Tinuvel chill.

Fell moves again, closing the distance between them. His lips part and he strikes out at her, quick as a snake, in an attempt to plant a claiming nip on her withers. This close to Fall, he will take no chances of her running off, but he backs away immediately after his rather rude introduction, and waits for the inevitable punishment. He will endure whatever bites or kicks she chooses to throw at him without reciprocation; and then he will drive her back to the herd.

FELL

stallion. 16hh. black. marwari x. Rougaru x visurix.