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Abraxas listened intently to the pale stallion's words, his grin having quickly melted away into a serious expression as he processed what he was hearing. His hazel eyes studied Thranduil's face, and a little adrenaline thrilled through him when he realized what he was being recruited for. He was no stranger to the concept of bachelor herds, having encountered them more than once from a distance in his adolescence. His mother had always kept well away from them and urged him to do the same. "You'll understand why when you're older," she had told him, but even as a colt Brax had smelled the overwhelming musk of bachelor herds and watched the way they tussled with each other so casually and, on some subconscious level, understood. Stallions in groups were unpredictable and capable of anything.
And now Brax would discover their secrets. But would he—could he—fit in?
He gave one last darting glance to the foxgloves. The bee was gone, and the tall flowers swayed gently in a light breeze. Blinking against the drizzle, Brax returned his gaze to his new brother-in-arms and mustered a smile in spite of the anxiety that coursed through him. The Peak? Stealing? What did the bachelors steal? There was so much to learn; so much his mother likely wouldn't approve of. But Brax had left her for a reason. He wanted an adventure, and he would have one.
"I look forward to being your brother, Thranduil. My name is Abraxas, and I am ready."