Wrapped in thought, Bacardi had not noticed Peak scent, but as the mare spoke, he recognized her voice immediately. Head turning, lupine eyes focusing on the black and white mare, he cannot help the smile that tugs at his dark lips. Although it was not the answer he had thought he would receive, it seemed ironic that it would be Clarity that would show up during his reflection. “Sister” his deep voice greeted warmly. “It has been.”


Leaving his place next to the water, the painted stallion strode over to her, reaching his nose out to exchange breaths in a familiar and happy manner. Afterwards, he pulled back so that he could give her a look over. Aside from age (time stood still for no one) she looked the same as the day he had left the Peak. He was proud of the scent she still carried of the warrior women. But instinct couldn’t help him noticing another scent as well. He wasn’t the only one furthering their lineage.


“Your presence is always welcome here in the Forest…. In my home.” Bacardi stated with a curious flick of his ears. “But what brings you here?” he cannot help but ask. Was she simply surveying the islands? Or had something else driven her here?

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

"...speech"