Gone were the days of silence in the Forest. Life seemed to begin flourishing in the woodlands, and Bacardi could not help but feel a sense of satisfaction, and gratitude for it. He had worried that in the end, he would be alone in his fortress turned prison. Although the painted stallion relished in the fact that this would forever be his home (as long as his strength prevailed), he was as much shackled to it as he was a willing victim. Twinge, Grizel and Soraya forever locked away here with him. The others, he suspected, could find their way without him. The two who had traveled to the mainland with him proved they would purposefully not.


Still, a happy sigh escapes the stallion as he stands at the edge of the pond. Not far his family grazed undisturbed. Bacardi still needed to make his way to the Thicket and Savanna, to visit the stallions who resided there and take up the allegiance he had talked with Zevulun about. Luthien should be united; a place of sanctuary for those outside of it. If only he realized that had been his father’s dream, after a lifetime of torment.


“Was this where you meant for me to be?” he asked the whisper of wind that gently waves the branches above his head. Not only had the Forest been his birth home, but it was also the resting place of his mother. Somehow, in the depth of his soul, Bacardi felt like the answer was yes.

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

"...speech"