Meadow
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on October 4, 2023 at 09:43:19 PM by Martyr, Emerson, and Tribulation
The trio listened to the blood-marked stallion quietly with ears pricked in earnest interest. Martyr is relieved to have found such a stallion so very quickly after their arrival, one who understands their plight quite well according to his words. He could not help but marvel at their sudden luck. The last three years had been so fraught with difficulties. Now would they truly subside? Now would they truly know peace and comfort? The blue roan hoped for that desperately.
""If you wish, you are welcome to follow me. I am headed home, now."
At the question, Martyr looked toward his younger siblings, Tribulation then Emerson. The younger tovero male was eager to move on, he knew. The roan assumed that the destination didn't matter much to the boy. How much longer did he really think that his younger brother would stay with them? Tribulation had turned three on the journey here. He was as eager to strike out as ever, as many young stallions do at that age. Martyr knew it was likely about time, but still. . . Emerson. In his bones, Martyr knew he wouldn't have to ask her what she thought. He could see her willingness -- eagerness? -- to accept the offer. Without wasting any more time deliberating, he turned his largely white face back to the male and nodded agreeably.
"Yes, we'll follow you. I'm sure you know I cannot begin to thank you."
""If you wish, you are welcome to follow me. I am headed home, now."
At the question, Martyr looked toward his younger siblings, Tribulation then Emerson. The younger tovero male was eager to move on, he knew. The roan assumed that the destination didn't matter much to the boy. How much longer did he really think that his younger brother would stay with them? Tribulation had turned three on the journey here. He was as eager to strike out as ever, as many young stallions do at that age. Martyr knew it was likely about time, but still. . . Emerson. In his bones, Martyr knew he wouldn't have to ask her what she thought. He could see her willingness -- eagerness? -- to accept the offer. Without wasting any more time deliberating, he turned his largely white face back to the male and nodded agreeably.
"Yes, we'll follow you. I'm sure you know I cannot begin to thank you."
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