Relatively quiet weeks had followed my successful theft of Khar'pern from the valkyries, and the retribution I had been certain would follow had not come. They had remained silent, presumably caught up in their own elections. The Lagoon was similarly distracted, but there was a general apathy from the brothers. We knew as much about Vane as we did about Marko, which was to say next to nothing. I'd cast my vote for the shiny new thing, but I was reserving judgment.

Either way, he'd been slow to answer the Prairie sublead's challenge, allowing a mere associate to defend us. I would have taken more offense but it wasn't my place, to be honest. If neither Garmr or Marko wanted to cause problems over it, then neither did I. I had more important things to do, like sneaking back to his homeland to see what gems he left unguarded.

Ocean water sheeted off my sides as I slunk ashore, my muzzle skimming along the sands as I sought Castillon's outward path so I could trace it inland. I didn't know much about how the Prairie structured itself, other than that it was very family-oriented and full of do-gooders who liked to volunteer themselves in place of their tributes. All very silly notions, really.

Family was foisted upon you, not chosen. And because of that, they were no more worthy of one's trust than the birds or the bees or the snakes.

When I found her, she was alone. A pretty thing as far as mares went, and a little more confident than I typically went for, but the faster I got in and out the better. There were plenty of potential road blocks in this prettily painted territory, and I wanted to run into none of them. All I wanted was to make these uppity Prairie leaders aware that they were playing a dangerous game by poking at the Lagoon.

"Come along darling," I murmured as I slunk behind her, angling myself toward her hip so I could drive her forward with a snap of my teeth at her hips. "We've got places to be." Assuming she would not go willingly, I didn't wait for her to resist, but preemptively tried to rush forward, pressing my shoulder up against her rump to shove her forward.

Stallion - Young Adult - 15.2 - Brown Overo