Vadim
stallion | draft x | dunalino pintaloosa | 18hhs
Since their departure from Tinuvel, Vadim did the very thing he thought himself too never do again. He left Miriella alone. Although she did not seek him out either. At least to his knowledge. She disappeared in the same manner she had done when they lived in the Lagoon, and he didn’t have the strength to make it any different. Too wrapped up in his own thoughts, his own doubts and self-pity about where he belonged that he hadn’t wanted it to show in front of the fierce mare. Afraid of what would happen if she saw such weakness
Every now and again as the seasons passed, the stallion caught the mare’s scent to know she still lingered here too. Did she wait for his direction? Or was she as directionless as him to not know where to go? Just as it had with their first child, each time he caught her scent, it changed. The sweet smell of milk and motherhood was always a pleasing aroma mixed with Miriella’s scent. Vadim had never told her this; nor did he ever imagine himself too. Would she spit it back in his face the answer he had given when she had offered for him to meet their first daughter? It had been for the girl’s own good not to remember him. Sometimes, Vadim wished Miriella wouldn’t remember him either. Only that he was too greedy; too selfish to not remind her if she did somehow forget.
Today, not any different than the last, Vadim found himself lonely. The need to be in the company of others like a poison growing fouler in his veins with no remedy. It caused him to draw nearer to where he had last scented Miriella, and to his surprise, he was able to spot her in a little open area from where he stood in the trees. The red splashed girl the barrier that kept the stallion hidden in the shadows, only to watch from afar, and soak up what company he could get despite the distance between them.
Time had swept by, the sun moving to a different angle in the sky, when something roused Vadim from his grazing among the trees. Lifting his head, he peered in the direction of Miriella and their daughter that now snoozed in the grass. The roan mare was clearly upset, her posture a giveaway if her raised tone was not. Vadim did not hesitate to the threat she faced like he had hesitated to meet his own daughter. The draft trotted from his hiding place among the trees, clearly the distance between them quickly, and attacked (teeth seeking skin, front hooves lashing out, chest like a battering ram) the stallion that had offended his Miriella without even stopping to ask why.
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