The way she turned and stared at him; it reminded Bacardi of a young frightened doe. Since coming to Luthien, even in the Thicket, sometimes he would come across a deer fresh from its mother’s side that would give him the same alarmed reaction. She was young; he could see it in the soft lines of her face, and probably hadn’t strayed from the Prairie before. It made Bacardi regret coming across so rough in his greeting; hating that might be her first experience outside of Zevulun’s herd.


“It’s best if you don’t.” he replied as she took a step away shyly. If it had been anyone else’s herd member, he knew he wouldn’t have been this way. Bacardi had always been welcoming and friendly, to a point, and every word and action in this instant felt foreign and wrong. What would Zevulun do if he found her here, especially with him? Would he punish this mare? Or attack him on the unjust terms that Bacardi had lured someone innocent into his grasp for spite and revenge? The painted stallion nearly scoffed at the thoughts, but remained well maintained on the outside as he watched the girl who had only wanted to visit a place that was supposed to be safe.


“You’re already here, you might as well enjoy it before you go home.” he conceded with a small dip of his head. If not here, then she might venture somewhere else that was more dangerous and Bacardi couldn’t stand the thought that he might’ve been the one to drive her to it.

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

"...speech"