Steam rose from his lithe body as he trudged awkwardly through the thick snow, his thin desert coat unprepared to keep him warm in Tinuvel's freezing temperatures. Despite the stories Raegar had heard of this harsh landscape, he had been unprepared for the scope and brutality of it. His pale muzzle burned where the wind had scoured it, and flakes of ice clung to both his whiskers and eyelashes, reducing his visibility.

Raegar didn't really know why he'd come. His father had won in the back-and-forth exchange with Fell with the theft of Kohelet, and from the lack of retaliation on the little black stallion's part, he seemed to have understood this as well. There was no reason for the young overo to come here, much less on his own, and yet curiosity had propelled his hooves all the way across the ocean and up onto this unforgiving beach. Fueled by the overconfidence awarded to the very young and the very lucky, Raegar slipped through as much of the Bay as he dared until his very feet began to ache with the cold.

He'd found plenty of signs of life - if you could call existence in this frigid hellscape life - but not a single soul in person. Just their tracks, and the marks of grazing and sleeping. He had been about to give up and go home empty-handed when the soft voice reached him through the quiet and he turned silently toward it.

Hello? Sarama? She called, and he crept closer until the violent red outline of her slender figure was visible against the whitewashed background. Raegar had no way of knowing who Sarama was, although with Vitani's situation still fresh in his mind he couldn't help but wonder if it were a child. Something that might tether this clearly desert-bred beauty to the mute brute who ruled here. The last thing he wanted to do was to try and take another mare home, just to fight with her in the Badlands over a child that was not his own, but then again, he reasoned... he had no way of knowing. Sarama might be the name of another mare here.

Besides, Fell was the enemy. Let him keep his child and lose his wife.

Lacking both the patience and foresight to consider his rash decision a moment longer, Raegar launched himself in the mare's direction in a flurry of powder and teeth. He wanted her to run so that he could attempt to strongarm her back toward the ocean, to raid her away back to the Badlands. What better way to prove his father's victory than to take from the Bay twice?

He didn't stop to talk, nor did he give away his position with screaming, only dove with teeth bared and forelegs poised to strike any time the delicate beauty looked as though she might make a break for it. "To the Badlands," he panted, his eyes alight with the thrill of the hunt and the lure of a lucky win.

young stallion - mutt - seal bay overo - 15.1h - rafe x velahrn