“I’ll see you in the Spring.” Bacardi said to the retreating back of Zevulun. The painted stallion watched what he felt was now his ally return home, until he could not see him any longer. But it was the feeling of Sidra’s touch that pulled his gaze away from the now empty space, and down to her tucked against his chest. Lowering his head, he lipped at the fine hairs along her crest a bit playfully, and affectionately. Although she had not been here long, he felt like she had been here as long as he had been. Another piece to the puzzle that was his life, that would leave him lost if she weren’t. “There is nothing to thank me for. You are not my prisoner, Sidra.” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low rumble. “I’m glad to hear your mother is still alive. She’ll get better in the care of your father.”


When she pulled away from him, Bacardi didn’t try to keep her. Instead, his golden eyes followed her. Resting upon her face softly now that they weren’t in the presence of Zevulun. The tender side of the stallion reserved for those he considered his family. Only her next choice of words had his expression changing briefly to confusion. Had she thought the return of her father meant her return to his herd? It brought a little smile to his dark lips then, and he reached out to brush his muzzle softly along her cheek. “My home is your home, always.” No matter whether it was here or the Forest, Sidra would always be welcome at his side.

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

"...speech"