As Twinge expected, Bacardi had been tucked away in his little grove, munching on the tender grass the overhead trees had kept protected from the summer sun. It dappled the light across his two toned back in the intricate patterns caused by the green leaves, allowing some warmth to soak into his flesh and make the stallion sleepy. He was just on the verge of abandoning his meal for a nap when the sound of others approaching him somewhat roused the stallion into an alert manner. Head raising, ears perking, he waited until Twinge and Burn broke through the cover of the vegetation and joined him.


It still amazed him how much his son had grown. Although Burn was still young, barely reaching two years old, he was maturing into a stallion quicker than Bacardi ever wanted to admit. It was no wonder he was causing mischief; in the quiet confines of the Forest, he would surely be bored. Even his mother had shown signs of it, as her impish nature showed in her eyes as she came to stand at his side. Even as Bacardi contemplated all of this, he listened to Twinge as she explained what their son had done. No doubt fully expecting Bacardi to reprimand him for his behaviors, while Bacardi was doing his best not to be distracted with the warmth of Twinge’s skill against him.


“The other residences of the Forest aren’t here for your amusement, Burn.” Bacardi said gruffly as his lupine eyes rested on the sulking boy. He hadn’t told Twinge of Burn’s adventures through the Forest or chasing the deer. The painted King traveled through the territory enough that there was little to stay secret from him. Yet even now, he finds it hard to scold Burn. Knowing it was more his fault than the youth’s, but somehow he had to placid the awaiting mother too. “Since you caused this, it will be you that delivers the news to Zevulun. I will go with you, but only to make sure you actually deliver to news.”


Bacardi glanced to Twinge then, brushing his nose lightly over the mare’s neck before he stepped around her towards Burn. “Go on.” he huffed, nodding his head to the Prairie. “Hurry up.” By time Bacardi brought Burn back, he wouldn’t have the energy to cause mischief for a while. This wasn’t going to be some slow plod through the Forest, and eternally, Bacardi couldn’t help but laugh to himself, knowing Twinge would be jealous that Bacardi got to go racing through the Forest without her.

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

"...speech"