i've learned to love a little bit of blood in my wine | sigurdr Posted on June 20, 2024 at 09:02:49 PM by Carthage
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When Carthage had come seeking Snapdragon, he had gone forth from the shadows of the dense wood like a living shadow. He knew that the situation was tense with their very livelihood on the edge of a knife, dangling at the precipice. The dark bay stallion had very little knowledge of the stallion Snapdragon had allowed to step in for her. His name and home, yes, he knew that much. Carthage did not trust what he did not know. What bothered him thus far was that he was unsure how far this Nahawi was willing to go? Would he bleed for Paradise and shed blood for it? Everything rested on those answers being in their favor. That and luck.
The fact that Snapdragon would enraged him -- that she let his and his family's position in life rest on a stranger's supposed skill instead of his own -- made his blood boil. The Friesian had no intention of letting anything he had worked for simply slip away because a mare let another fight for their home in her place. The dark bay had tried to visit with Snapdragon. In his own way, he tried to comfort her and sniff out how much faith she had in this Nahawi character. From the way she had carried on, the answer was none.
Silently, with an upper lip curled in distaste, Carthage left her there still sobbing and unresponsive on the forest floor. The stallion stormed down the jungle paths, ears pinned flat back against his poll in a barely concealed rage. The various, humidity-dampened fronds and leaves tried to cling to his slick skin as he passed to no avail. He would have to think of a solution as Carthage refused to leave his life to chance.
Staying with Snapdragon would not happen. He may have withstood the youngster leading before today, but that era was over. She proved inadequate when it finally came down to defending the territory from outsiders. With a rough idea in mind, Carthage turned to follow the trail of Snapdragon's scent to the coast. Intent on seeing the battle for himself, the bay would find the battling stallions himself and jockey for his position with the victor. If Nahawi won, everything would go on as planned. If not. . . well, Carthage had no intent on leaving.
Nearing the sounds of clashing bodies, his crimson eyes peeked out upon the beach through the jungle brush. An unsurprised snort would come from his lips when the red stallion did lose as he suspected. Even if it was not by much, a loss was still a loss. He followed the retreating stand-in with his eyes and then focused on the victor. The stallion was uniquely marked; however that mattered little overall. Carthage would wait for the stranger to catch his breath and steady himself before emerging from the jungle as he had before.
"That was a sound win," he offered with a mild complimentary tinge. All signs of revealed anger were smoothed away now. Eyes like garnet took in the other stallion as the dark male approached. Every line of him was seemingly at ease, unbothered. Carthage supposed the other stallion had done him a favor by running off the former ruler. Why couldn't they benefit each other now? With small flick of his tail, the Friesian-like bay would stop some strides away from the new king of Paradise. His dark hooves sank some into the sand as his movement ceased, weight no longer distributed.
"With your kingdom won, I wonder what your next steps will be."