toland
stallion | mustang x | Ee aa nD nZ nSb | 15.1hhs
It had been a whole season, almost two, since Toland had announced the change in leadership. Bacardi had seemed relieved by it; still doing some patrols, but mostly staying close to his herd and keeping them company. Perhaps it was that he no longer felt the pressure to try and do politics. Feeling as if he failed by not reaching out and making allies and a name for himself amongst the rest. Regardless, Toland had not done much better despite his ambition. Fatherhood seemed to take up most of his spare time.
Three foals were a lot to look after, especially since it was his first time being a father. At least they also had their mothers to keep track of them, not that they were anymore experienced than him. In the very least, Toland had visited Tinuvel before they were born. Even if he didn’t reach all the territories that he wanted, he’d made some sort of step towards existing in the world.
Thinking back on the cold island, he wondered what it looked like now? Had the snows settled in, painting everything white? Had the horses there grown their thick coats, looking closer to bear or a shaggy wolf, than a horse? The image made him smile, despite no one else being around. Toland was making his first morning patrol, the light barely peeking over the horizon, so the Forest was still cast in heavy shadow amongst the trees. But he walked without fear despite his solitude in the territory he had been born.
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