The sun-colored mare comes complacently to the bay. She falls quiet after her initial protests, apparently too weak or too afraid to put up a fight. Fell is not under any illusions that she wants to come with him, but he leads her anyway. She has the curved ears of his cruel mother, and this intrigues him, not that he can ask of her any questions, or expect any answers in return.

He watches the shiver wrack her small frame as they step up the pebbled shore of the Bay. Fell’s nostrils flutter in a breathy whicker, and he lowers his head toward her heels to drive her — as politely as he is able, which isn’t very polite at all — toward the herd, where she will be warmed by Kohelet and the others.

A voice sounds from the down the beach, and Fell’s head swivels with sudden alarm and territorial fury toward the call. A painted black stallion scrabbles toward them along the pebbled shore, halting a few strides away, eyeing him warily. Fell’s ears slick back, but the intruding stallion seems unwilling to approach further, so Fell does not immediately attack, but the window for the stranger to remove himself is a narrow one, and closing rapidly.

The sun-colored mare, much to his frustration, responds to the stallion’s call. Fell blows air harshly from his flared nostrils, his tail snapping audibly against his flanks as the two desert-bred horses speak. He can understand them, but there is no context for him to understand the scope of their conversation. Fell begins to advance, his thin patience reaching its end, and their conversation dies.

The mare’s eyes find him, and then the stallion’s, and then Fell pauses as the intruder addresses him. He had expected to fend off the painted male as a thief, but he speaks to Fell instead, his head dropping and ears splaying submissively. Confused, the black stallion hesitates. He is not interested in hearing any explanation for the outsider’s presence, and under normal circumstances he might have already thrown himself onto the painted stallion in punishment. But the dipped head, the drooping ears, all scream louder than any verbal plea for peace ever could.

And so Fell pauses, silent; and then he lunges forward, aiming to clamp down on the stallion’s withers in a single, deliberate bite. If his teeth land, they will not pinch terribly hard, and he will immediately let go and back away. It is a message; if you are so sorry, then leave.

“Wait, Dad.”

Fell half-turns at the unexpected voice of Khoshekh. He is unwilling to take his eyes off the other stallion lest he attempt to make off with the Bay’s newest member, but he is not likely to ignore his son if the boy chooses to involve himself. One hooked ear stays trained on the desert-breds, and one ticks toward the lanky black shape of Khoshekh.

His son trots forward, coming to a halt a few strides away. His dark eyes can’t seem to leave the pair on the beach, their bodies shivering and unprepared for the Bay’s harsh climate. Khoshekh can understand what his father is attempting to do; Fell does not part easily with any of his herd, and if he has brought a mare into the Bay, that mare is unlikely to leave it. Kho does not necessarily disagree with his father’s ways, but he can see that this particular prize is not going to last very long in the Bay if Fell tries to keep her here. The stallion looks to be in a similar state, and Kho feels guilty at the thought of sending him back into the cold sea.

But he says nothing more. He can’t think of a way to explain to his father that he just feels bad about the whole thing, and he does not feel right disobeying his sire in any case. So he stands there, awkwardly, waiting for Fell to dismiss him, so at least he can say that he tried.

It’s not like he can do much else.

FELL

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