No sooner was he pushing his body past his daughter’s, putting himself directly in the young stallion’s path, that another horse surged upwards from behind. The blur of brown and white wasn’t a familiar color to any of those who’d taken refuge in the Prairie as guardians, but Zevulun was always expecting to have some assistance in the Prairie when driving away enemies. He felt the relief inside him more than he might’ve years ago; he was so much older now, he could feel his pains so much deeper than he ever had.

He had tried to fight off the last creature, that sleek dark stallion, that had come to take Claret away and he’d failed. Claret had been taken away from the Prairie and he still remembered how thin she’d been when she’d returned home. He had failed… and he’d been younger; he hadn’t suffered a near-death injury that still ached from time to time; he hadn’t just come fresh off a fight.

So, needless to say, he was quite grateful for the horse who came up on the paint with the clear intention to get him away from here. Surely, two-to-one, the Lagoon bachelors were at least clever enough to avoid a fight that’d leave them outnumbered. Zevulun was clueless to remembering this was a mare his son, Lir, had brought home some time ago, or that she knew who Claret was. He was only invigorated by having the assistance and immediately surging forward with an even more bullying rage to keep overwhelming and pushing the bachelor out. Zevulun didn’t mind seeing him all the way down to the ocean until he could watch his head bob and disappear as he swam back through the surf for Crossing Isle.