Common

"Mother is dead." When Poppy had told him that, she hadn't meant to hurt him. And yet she had. His father had died when he was very young and he had barely gotten to know the golden stallion before he was ripped from him. He'd sought a family in the Lagoon, hoping they could give him the companionship and relationship that he craved. They couldn't. At least not in the way he had hoped. The chaos was fun, for a bit, but Leukos was unhappy. He'd left, to find something, to find himself. The mainland had given him opportunity to explore and learn, and become something, and he'd squandered the chance away. He returned to the islands, tail between his legs, and that's when Poppy had told him. He'd been brash, snarling his indifference before sulking off into the bushes. He was mad at her, even if he knew he had no right to be. She hadn't killed their mother.

Leukos had never felt like he'd belonged anywhere. Not here, not on the mainland. But he craved it. There was a time when he wouldn't have been caught dead in the Commons. The illusion of choice had been important to him, once. He had been spoiled for choice on the mainland and it had proved too much for him. It would be easier this way, he'd decided.

His skin twitches beneath the autumnal breeze, spots flickering like stars across his pelt. He'd been in the Commons long enough for a thin layer of dirt to settle across his back, unwashed by adventuring between the islands. He kicked a pebble across the well-worn path he was following, watching it bounce across the bare ground until it came to rest at the hooves of another horse. His ears flicked, a little too eagerly, but he kept the bored look on his face, lifting his gaze to look at them blankly.