Bacardi was (for the most part) a very patient stallion. But in situations like this, he could barely stand to wait. He couldn’t help but try to search for answers in her tear glistening eyes before she said it. Or at least a portion of it. Lakota didn’t give in to telling him all of it, but what little she did say made Bacardi’s heart twist with empathy. Though he was a young stallion when he had been in her position, he had been utterly alone at one time, before he had Soraya, as she had been the first mare to join him.


Never being very intimate with Lakota made him feel a bit awkward on how to comfort her. Would she care if he tried to press against her side like he would one of the other mares? Would it give her comfort if his warm breath brushed along her damp neck while he murmured heart felt words?


Deciding he was overthinking it, Bacardi stepped around so that they were shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip with the mare. His barrel lightly brushing her own if she did not move away. “I’m glad your home.” he said, his words genuine and warm with welcome. “Unless fate decides otherwise, I’ll always be here.” Bacardi could never predict whether another would challenge for the Forest, or if he would always be strong enough to win. He couldn’t predict his death either, if he came to a early end just as his mother had. But if he had a choice, the painted stallion would remain here for many many seasons to come.


“Let’s take shelter out of the wind, while you dry.” he suggested. “It’s been awhile since I’ve left the Forest to visit another island. I’d be more than happy to listen about your travels, if you care to share them.”

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

"...speech"