Fell is warmed by Parvati’s accounts of their daughter. He swells proudly, his neck arching and his bearded chin brushing his chest, preening. He is a little surprised to hear that the Inlet has suffered some trouble while the Bay has been so quiet. The strange thought occurs to him that he’s not the only one to attract enemies. Maybe you can do everything right, hurt no one, and still incite the anger of someone else. It’s an odd thing to consider, but he brushes it away, more concerned than anything about the Inlet. The neighboring territory and its leader were one of his precious few allies, and his brows furrow with anxious curiosity.

It seems for now, at least, things are stable. Parvati is not here to ask him for help, which would have been a much worse sign. He cocks his head as she begins her proposal, ears coming forward to listen. Her eyes catch his easily, and he holds her gaze.

Her offer comes as a bit of a surprise. Mostly, he is shocked to hear that she might be willing to give up her position of power in the Inlet. Parvati has always struck Fell as an ambitious mare, unlikely to let go of something she wants until she gets it. He wonders if his surprise is apparent on his face, and hopes it does not come across as insulting. Parvati would be an asset to his herd, undoubtedly, with her experience as a leader and simply having lived on Tinuvel so long.

Immediately, though, he knows it will not be so simple as a yes or a no. The power vacuum left by Kohelet did not remain unfilled for long, and Mrgasira has consistently proven herself worthy of a leadership title since the death of their daughter and the birth of their first son. Fell is well aware of the values of a herd hierarchy left to its own devices; nothing good comes from a stallion who tampers with the leadership of his mares. A fit mare will put herself at the top of the food chain, and needs no help from him; additionally, herd members will naturally follow a mare who is correct for the position, but not necessarily one who was placed there of a stallion’s preference.

For a few moments, Fell bobs his head thoughtfully. He sorely wishes he could explain to Parvati why his response was anything other than an immediate yes; he values their relationship too much to risk damaging it with such an insult as an immediate no, either. After a few seconds of consideration, his yellow-gold eyes flick back to hers once more. He gestures to himself with a brisk motion of his chin to his chest, then shakes his head: not me. He is not the one to decide Parvati’s position in the herd; to an extent, it is up to Parvati herself, and whether or not she is willing to put in the work to prove herself to the rest of the small Bay herd.

Fell indicates with a jerk of his head to the side that she should follow him deeper into the Bay. If she decides to come, Fell will take her to Mrgasira.