Meadow

Change.

Psychedelic exhaled a huff, thinking back through the years he’d stayed, the years he’d left, and the years he’d returned. The islands were ever changing, even when they seemed stagnant. He studied the dark stallion for a moment. “It’s been awhile for you, huh?” It was asked as a question but it wasn’t really one, Psych knew what the answer would be.

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“They’re changing fast now, though.” He offered the information quietly, but with a lingering tone of warning. “They’re coming to life again. Things have been pretty boring around here for a while.” Psychedelic grinned a little. He’d loathed the quiet, even while trying to tell himself it was exactly what he’d wanted. “The horses taking territories now seem to get it, there’s been a lot more fighting lately.” He thought about the Lagoon and wondered if he could live long enough to do what he intended to with it.

He had to start somewhere.

“Do you have somewhere you’re going back to?” He asked, wondering if there was a desire to retrieve a lost territory in this one or not. Something told him that there wasn’t, that he wouldn’t be here in the meadow if that was so. “One of the other islands?”

His weight shifted and he decided he’d rather cut to the chase. He’d never really been the patient sort. “If not, the Lagoon needs a strong brotherhood before these herd leaders continue to pick at our carcass like vultures.” Maybe he should get to know the inky black stallion more before he told him of the Lagoon’s need for stallions to come live there. Maybe he should have made sure he was someone who’d see eye-to-eye on what Psychedelic wanted the Lagoon to be again.

Still, something was telling him underneath the daze of new return this black stallion would be a reckonable force and someone the Lagoon could very much use to grow its strength.