Another boring day was passing in what Lior was quickly beginning to think must’ve been the boring place to live throughout all the islands. He had done absolutely nothing today but graze for a bit on the overabundance of green summer grasses and took a small swim in the bend of the river where it was deep enough to submerge himself up to his shoulders at the deepest point. When he was through with his swim, gold-and-white coat lovingly pristine, he’d curled up in the shade of a large oak tree and promptly fell asleep. He had hoped he might be in a better mood once he awoke, but he was still feeling just as grumpy as before, if not more so.
Nothing ever happened here. His father touted over and over again about protecting the peace of the islands and providing a place for anyone to live so long as they wanted to live here. When Lior had questioned what was so wretched these other herds did that the Prairie would never do, like raid and fight and steal members away from other herds, he thought it all sounded kind of… fun. Would it be the worst thing in the world to be forced to live somewhere where there was abundant protection, hardly any predators, and plenty of food and water? Not to mention the fact that Lior figured if he was the one dragging pretty girls here to stay, they wouldn’t really be that upset after they saw him.
He was, of course, an absolutely gorgeous specimen.
Thus, Lior was beginning to think his father was simply too old and too boring to see the opportunity he had in front of him. These peaceful, dull days only further proved his point and made that itch to do something a little worse.
A call carried on the wind nearby and drew his eyes away from the distant blue skies where they’d been lazily watching the clouds. His ears perked forward curiously and he was grateful for something to do; some distraction. He rumbled a nicker out in turn and trotted off toward where the call had come from, but hadn’t expected to see an unknown mare with a foal stuck to her hip. The babe was golden, like him. Also similar to Lior was the spotted pattern over her rump - though he also shared his father’s solid white splashing along his front legs, belly, and face.
Unknown mare with a golden, spotted babe, showing up in the Prairie? Lior’s father had spent most of the Fall sticking to the Prairie, so he doubted this was a sibling. Castillon had been annoyingly proactive lately, hadn’t he? Only a year older than Lior and already going about with his chin in the air, touting his importance as second-in-command, having now sired foals of his own this past year. It was entirely possible, then, that he had drawn the right conclusion, but Lior kept the thought to himself. There were plenty of golden horses with white blankets, it didn’t necessarily mean the blood of this child belonged to the Prairie.
Curiosity stormed behind Lior’s blue eyes as he pulled up short in front of the mother and child, stretching his neck out to share a customary greeting breath. How should he act? Like the gracious host his father expected him to be? Or should he show the cards at his chest and be true to his emotions?
Lior knew how important it was to use honey to catch the flies.
“Hello,” his voice was warm as he tucked his pink chin back and smiled politely at her. “I heard your call and thought I was the closest resident to answer it the quickest. My name is Lior. My father, Zevulun, leads the Prairie.” He looked a little curiously over her face when he mentioned his father’s name just in case recognition would touch her eyes or not. “What brought you to our home today?”
Blech. He could almost retch (if it were possible) at how amiable and polite he was being.
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