Where Tyr stood, he could see Oswin’s pale skin peeking through the undergrowth of the jungle. He was sure that she knew he was watching, when was he not? He had been worried about her since the scuffle with Nahawi. How that had irked him. Even now, as he thought about it, his ears flattened to his poll. The red dun was lucky he had agreed to the alliance, giving Tyr the crown he had wanted. If he had remained in the Lagoon, it would have been fair game to remove pieces of his hide. Even now, Tyr thought about at least taking one good bite.


The sound of another approaching gathered the stallion’s attention. His ears unpinned, and he turned his head and peered out across the sand. Typhoon’s red coat wasn’t the same shade as Nahawi, thankfully, so he didn’t mistake his own son for their neighbor. It would have been hard too anyways, with that spiky colt hair that Typhoon was currently sporting.


Letting out a low rumbling nicker of greeting, Tyr remained where he was for his son to come to him. He assumed the colt was looking for him anyways, since he seemed to like following him around. Perhaps more interested in the Ridge than Renvari, but neither an heir, it made Tyr briefly think of Calder. He still needed to talk to him and see what he thought of the possibility of responsibility that could be laid on his growing shoulders.


“Typhoon.” Tyr greeted once the colt had reached him, and the stallion extended his nose to exchange breaths. “Have you been enjoying your day?”