Falls

This girl is a gun, before you know it, it's don
eAnd you'll be wishing that you crossed your fingers

t felt good to be queen again.

Marceline's time in the Shore had been far more peaceful than any of the years she had spent as the Peak's Prime Minister. Asmodeus was pleasant company, and their herd was growing steadily. Life was good, but not without its challenges. Nyimara's sudden appearance on their shores had soured Marceline's mood, her contentment evaporating like dew under the morning sun, replaced by the heat of anger.

Marceline had watched from a distance as the pair sparred over the fate of their son, her gaze hard and her ears pinned against the spotted curve of her neck. Nyimara's barbed comments about the legitimacy of her rule had been particularly aggravating, but as far as Marceline was concerned, they were nothing more than the words of a bitter mare who knew she had lost the upper hand. Where Nyimara was now on her own, Marceline had Asmodeus at her side, a growing kingdom to help preside over, and - if nature showed her favor once more - another child budding within her womb.

And though it was tempting to swim herself to Salem's shore and issue a retaliatory challenge, Marceline had a nagging feeling it might leave Asmodeus feeling cross with her. The last thing she wanted now was to bring the calico king's ire down upon her and jeopardize her new position, and so instead the red queen set off towards the Crossing, hoping the distance would give her time to gain a level head once more.

The Falls had always been a place of solace for Marceline during her time in the Peak. In the rare opportunity she was able to leave the Peak's borders, its calming waters and thick forests provided the perfect escape for the pressures that being Prime Minister had laid on her. And so she found herself naturally drawn back to them, eager to immerse herself in the solitude they offered.

But as she approached the Falls, movement through the treeline caught her attention and brought her to a halt. Irritation flared within her breast, her hopes for solitude dashed by the presence of this stranger. Nostrils flared and her pale tail whipped against her sides as she peered through the swaying branches and ochre leaves with narrowed eyes, spying the sun-bathed figure of a stallion idling at the water's edge. It would make for a picturesque scene, she thought, were his golden coat not stained with blood.

Intrigued and annoyed in equal measure, Marceline pushed through the underbrush, taking care to step on a few brittle twigs as she approached in the hopes he would not be startled by her arrival.

"You look a little worse for the wear," she quipped as she came to a halt at the water's edge, maintaining a respectable distance between herself and the halcyon-hued stallion. Even from here the metallic smell of his blood filled her nose, the skin there wrinkling as she huffed out a breath. "What beast did you have the misfortune of crossing paths with?"