In the days following the birth of his children, Bacardi had hardly left their sides. Being a father was one of the best aspects in life the stallion could possibly enjoy. If ever given the choice, it was all Bacardi would ever want to do. It wasn’t reality though; and the stallion had neglected his duties as lead long enough. Not only did he need to venture out of the Forest and learn of the other leads on the islands, but he needed to patrol his own borders too. Just one more day; he would tell himself, putting off yet another patrol to buck and play with his family. Knowing that someday, like many of his grown children, they wouldn’t be around.


Today, Bacardi woke early, just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, and pried himself away to make a patrol. It felt lonely and quiet as he walked alone; even before his children were born, he had rarely made a step without someone coming along with him. A smirk tugged at his ebony lips, wondering how peeved Twinge would be that he had gone off without her?


The scent of another chased away his self-amusing thoughts as he drew closer to the Prairie’s border. It was always tense here, even when no one else was around. So, when he did pick up the perfume of a mare, it grew even more so. Zevulun had done well to keep his herd on his side of the line, just as Bacardi had done over the years. This change was certainly unexpected, and he tried to steal himself for anything as he followed it deeper into his territory.


When Bacardi got closer, he was finally able to spot the culprit. A mare, encased in the golden rays of the sun, stood among the tall trees and green grasses like some sort of unearthly spirit. It brought him to an immediate halt, his wolven eyes unable to hide their shock as he could only stare. How was he supposed to approach someone like that, and tell them to get out? Trying to swallow down his surprise, and finding his throat too dry to do so, Bacardi was able to unbind his hooves from the ground to finally approach the stranger.


“What are you doing here?” There was plenty of things he could have greeted her with. Bacardi wasn’t the gruff sort, but somehow the demand of an answer came tumbling out before anything else circling in his brain could.

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

"...speech"