Common

Amidst the frothy surf, the Paradise King stood in solitary stillness. A single ear, pricked atop his head, monitored the symphony of the surf. His glacial blue gaze roamed the verdant tapestry of his jungle Eden. Canopy-dwelling macaws burst forth in vibrant hues, while long-tailed lemurs frolicked nimbly among the vines. A faint smile graced his whiskered lips as a sense of deep kinship enveloped him. Atlantis, his birthplace, reverberated within his soul, a verdant paradise that held him forever in its embrace.

His gaze finally settled on a dark smudge of an island in the distance – the crossing. A necessary journey, he knew, across the narrow strait to the neighboring island. There, he hoped, he would find others to share the paradise he called home. After all, what was a haven without companions to share its bounty? With a deep breath, he turned one last time to the familiar jungle, a bittersweet ache in his chest. Today, he would venture to the crossing, seeking those who might be willing to share the lush wonders of Atlantis with him.

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As he stepped through the hissing surf, the Paradise King's glacial eyes swept across the familiar landscape. The pungent scent of the season hung heavy in the air, igniting his senses and quickening his pulse. He halted briefly, drawing a steadying breath, controlling his primal urges. His hooves sank into the soft sand, water pooling beneath his vibrant coat. With a vigorous shake, he scattered shimmering rainbow droplets around him. Venturing onto the hardened sands, he entered into the commons, an endless meadow spreading before him. Horses dotted the verdant meadow, engaging in various pursuits—mingling, grazing, or grazing inconspicuously. But his keen eyes settled upon a trio of horses that stirred something within him.

A sly grin touched his lips as he caught the end of the spotted woman's words, 'A lady hears she is pretty a dozen times a day. Tell her something she doesn't know.' He had been absent from the islands for some time, so he didn't recognize Marceline, but her disdainful air was unmistakable. It was the hallmark of the Peak women, a self-righteous arrogance that set them apart. While they would outwardly deny it, he was well aware of their frequented visits to the commons, seeking potential recruits to augment their ranks.

He settled beside the Overo. His frosty gaze, sharp as winter ice, swept over the group before settling on Marceline. A lazy cock of his hind leg accompanied a low, rumbling hum, "Hmm, enlighten us. What are we to say to a lady? Compliment her beauty, and we're in trouble. Ignore it, and we're still in trouble. Seems like a lose-lose situation, wouldn't you say, Marceline?" He paused, letting the implication hang heavy.

A sly smirk played on his lips. 'Where I come from,' he continued, his glacial gaze sliding to the other women,"honesty is the best policy. So, I'll tell her she's beautiful. And if she gives me the chance, I'd be interested in discovering the beautiful secrets beneath the surface."