Weeks had passed, and still it was difficult to believe that Rafe had lost the Badlands. He'd vanished into the wind and someone else had come along to claim her home. Seraphine had raged, at first, frustrated at her powerlessness to prevent the whole thing. At only six months old there was little she could do - she wasn't strong enough to take him on in battle, and she was far too young to hold any position of power that might allow her to change the outcome she was watching unfold before her. All she could do was watch as her home and her family were broken apart and scream her frustrations into the sky.

Her heart had ached as she'd watched from a distance as the new king took his place. Rafe's herd dispersed, some heading east to the Hills while others lingered at the border. Others still, like Arsinoe, had been bold enough to approach the new Badlands king. No doubt they would be asking for his permission to stay, but Seraphine was uninterested in following their lead and pandering to the stallion who'd taken her father's throne.

Instead she lingered just outside the border where the Badlands met the Desert, making the no-man's land between the two territories her temporary home. She would need to find another place to settle soon, but for the time being she was content to resign herself to this new life of lingering in the periphery. As content as she could be, at least, when anger still burned in her breast like a white hot flame. Anger towards the stranger king, and anger towards her father, who had promised to never leave her and then done just that.

It didn't matter. She could survive on her own. She didn't need her mother or her father. What good had they ever done for her? What words had they ever exchanged that weren't a lie? Marceline's soft promises of keeping her safe, Rafe's vow that he would not leave her in the same way her dam had. All lies.

Seraphine blinked back the bitter moisture that swelled in her eyes, determined not to shed a single tear for those who had wronged her. She distracted herself instead by carrying out her new evening routine: settling herself at the edge of the Desert and peering west towards the Badlands, watching as the sun began to make its slow descent towards the horizon.

In the distance she could just barely make out the moving figures of a group of horses, their identities obscured by the miles between. Her mind conjured an image of the spotted king leading his new family over the undulating land, happy and content. A fresh wave of frustration washed over Seraphine, her ears disappearing into the ebony tangle of her mane. With a huff, Seraphine kicked her hoof into the golden sand, the blunt edge gouging the soft earth and sending a cloud of dirt flying every which way. Again and again she struck at the ground, a crater forming at her feet with every hit. She was so distracted by her machinations that she scarcely noticed the stranger approaching, the soft thud of hooves on sand lost to her ears.

six months. mixed. bay roan overo.
15.3 wfg. rafe x marceline.
played by pippa.