Since Vadim was born, he has carried the scent of muck and mire his entire life. The Lagoon swamp water made up the very liquid that flowed through his veins. It had always caused the horses he had come across to greet him with fear or fury; scattering before he had a chance to be anything but a monster. Although Vadim had gotten used to it as he had grown older, a colt’s hurt feelings calloused for a battle-hardened stallion, it did not make him blind to it. So, now, as he traversed the Crossing, he is fully aware of how differently he is treated with the scent of Salem now coating his pale skin.
With this newfound freedom to walk among others, Vadim takes advantage of it. He travels between the territories; drifting from the edges of the Lagoon to the border between the Falls and Peak, finding no one seemed to care. It makes the stallion’s confidence grow, and so when he spots a familiar young mare beneath the tree, he wonders if his luck will carry on, or if she will be the one to crush it.
Vadim approaches her from behind, making sure to keep his steps quiet, almost if he is stalking her. Perhaps a game not well played, but Vadim plays it anyways as he suddenly offers a deep rumbling nicker only a few feet away. “Did Daddy finally let the Princess free of her tower?” he quips in greeting, his green eyes drifting over her Tinuvel thick hair and older body. When he had challenged for the filly just turned mare, she had not held the satisfactory curves and feminine wiles she did now. Vadim was both ashamed he had not won, and glad she was not currently stuck in the Lagoon like the other mares.
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