The blue roan stallion made his way northward from the coast, from the direction of his home in the Harbor. He hadn't been on this central island for a time. Between relocating from one island to another, leaving the Harbor with Vulcan and later returning, there had only been time for one visit before. Even that trip had gone only passably well. It had been a tumultuous time for him on the Islands; the roan hadn't even blamed Bexley when the younger mare quietly left him behind.
Largely, Martyr almost avoided trying to seek mares anymore. His time as second in the Harbor had only been fruitful because of Bexley, and she was gone. There had been a few over the years who had decided to live with him in the lands of his birth, but no one stayed. Had he just not had room in his heart for them then? There had been so much unanticipated turmoil: the disappearance of his father, the death of his mother and younger sister, his brother and nephew that had needed rearing, leaving home, returning home. The thought of it all made his head feel light and his skin seem too tight around him.
Not that he would outright admit it, the overo was still recovering. His nerves were slowly beginning to unwind. It helped more so that the mandated duties of patrolling the borders was no longer his. The time had allowed for rest and reflection. It had also made him antsy. The blue stallion had no idea what was next for him. He was how old now? With nothing and no one to his name. Only a few would even remember him if the worst happened. His existence would simply fade into nothing. THis path of thinking encouraged him to leave the Harbor, at least temporarily.
After following the river west from the coast, the roar of the Falls finally met his ears sometime in that night of his landing. Waterfalls had not been commonplace, even back home. So, he ventured closer. The blue of his gaze had not seen the mare ahead through the dark forest trail. She had heard his arrival before he scented her. "Reveal yourself! If you think you can herd me off to some land you are mistaken!" The over wasted no time revealing himself, crossing the last few yard of the trail to the more open ground beyond. He was still a fair distance from her and did not encroach remotely on her personal space. "Peace, lady. I don't know this trail in the dark; I didn't mean to frighten you." His largely white head had dipped in a courtesy nod toward her, ears pricked.
blue roan overo mustang mutt stallion . 16.1 hands