The past two years had proven quite interesting, for it was the first time since he was a young stallion that he wasn’t entirely by his lonesome. He’d stolen his daughters, Eir and Cayenne, when they were young and he kept them in an isolated part of the islands. But as they matured into beautiful two-year-olds, their hormones were in full swing and Dreadstag found his body reacting in ways that he couldn’t quite control.

It was time.

The palomino stud couldn’t deny it any longer. It had been a moderately quiet, uneventful evening when very suddenly? He was in motion. He circled around the young mares, his head kept low snaking this way and that. His tattered ears were pinned under the scruff of wind locks he called a mane, and he proceeded to drive his red and tawny daughters into the sea…

The situation may have seemed random, but there was always a method to his madness.. He knew exactly the stallion he wished to deliver at least one of them to…

It wasn’t long until they were on the chilly island of Tinuvel. The crisp cool air filled his lungs. He recalled a time when Tinuvel had been his home. He was young and eager, then. The ghost of his favorite two mares, Tequila and Shotgun. But he didn’t allow himself to linger, lest he begins to walk in a living hel.

A hot breath would escape his ashy nares, huffing and puffing as he draws himself from the sea. He knows his job is far from over. He rounds up his daughters and would press them to the territory line of the Bay. He doesn’t hesitate to cross into the black stallion’s territory with two young mares. He knows this stallion has something of honor, and so he trusts that Fell would not simply drive him off and keep the mares for himself. Especially not when he hears what the dreadstag would have to say to him.

Finally, he comes to a small meadow. It’s open, and he pulls the pressure off Cayenne and Eir, which allows them to slow, and relax. Eir would have laid down, and Cayenne would stand near her, dropping her head to graze. Both seemed pretty content and comfortable with the palomino stallion there to protect them.

Dreadstag would have observed them for a few quiet moments, before he would put some distance between himself and them, walking a loose circle. He lifts his head, neighing loudly. The sound is hoarse and rugged. He keeps himself in motion, for he knows that Fell would be none too pleased to hear a rogue in his territory, and he’ll be even further enraged to discover that the dreadstag had returned… Dreadstag does not move nor keep alert out of any sort of fear. He is simply far too aware that had their roles been reversed? He would not have hesitated to meet a known thief with vicious retribution for daring to return.