Bacardi stood in the light of the sun; the trees spaced out just far enough to let a curtain of warmth cascade down almost like a waterfall. Only a few strides away, Toland lay sprawled out on his side. His golden eyes were bright, and watchful of his sire while his little tail flicked around boredly. Not quite ready for a nap, not quite energetic; somewhere trapped in that restless state where he didn’t know what to do with himself. A huff, and then another, Bacardi finally opened an eye to look over at his son. "Why don’t you go find Roamer? Or Amarinora?” he suggested, and Toland only took a few moments to think about it. "Fiiiine” he answered Bacardi, causing a small chuckle from the painted stallion, while Toland scrambled up onto his hooves.


"They shouldn’t be too far.” he could hear Bacardi calling from behind him, knowing that meant that he shouldn’t go very far looking for them. Toland was brave, probably too brave considering his age. He was absolutely certain nothing could hurt him here in the Forest with everyone around to keep them safe. Who would mess with his father, anyways?


When he saw the flash of color, Toland stopped. His eyes widening as he spotted the young painted stallion he had never seen before. That was certainly not Roamer, or Amarinora, or even Twinge. Who was that?! Rather than march right up to them like he would typically do and demand they answer that very question, the colt thought he would watch them a little first. Get a better view. Sneaking a little closer, he was too busy looking at them and not where he was placing his hooves.


Snap


Toland felt the twig give way under his hoof and immediately the stranger looked his way, making the very demand Toland should have been making from the beginning. "Me” he answered instantly without thinking. "Who are you?”

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

"...speech"