Frustration had already clawed its way through Garmr when his first child had been born. The mare he had punished for simply existing had given him a daughter; though that was hardly what he had wanted. Something dark and sinister had risen up in him, to a point Garmr hadn’t been able to control himself. Only vague memories remain, but even those he hoped to forget. They were enough to keep him away from Gitch when she birthed his second filly, and to avoid Druna the best he could, despite how he anxiously awaited to see what she would give him.


As dangerous as it was to draw near, especially from the outcome of his first child, Garmr can’t help it when the smell of Druna’s birthing fills his nose. Part of him feels possessive; to keep any other stallion away from the area should they accidentally (or otherwise) stray closer. But he had always seen a few wolves slinking through the shadows of the swamps recently. No doubt drawn by the idea of an easy meal this season. Druna’s child would be anything but easy.


Show yourself she calls out in his direction as he shifts his weight where he had already been standing. The traitorous limbs that rested against his back and side had given him away, and Garmr felt his ears fold back against his poll, but he moves further. Drawing closer to the pair, step by step, until he emerges in the space in which she had given birth. “Go away would have been less inviting.” He replied, his green eyes boring into Druna’s, before they dropped to the colt at her side. That dark, threatening feeling was still there, but he dares not move any closer. Losing a filly was of little consequence to the stallion. But losing a colt; his first son, would leave a far more bitter taste in his mouth.