He was surprised to see the painted mare. That much Carthage would freely admit. Their contact had been minimal at best for the last few years. The bay wagered that it had rubbed her fur the wrong way when he chose to stay on in Paradise as Second after Sigurdr won against her proxy Nahawi.
Carthage admittedly hadn't thought much of Snapdragon when they'd met, despite being her Second, but how could he have argued with the appearance of the golden mare his sister had had visions of months before they met? Astarte had sworn the mare would take them on, and so she had. It was a baffling gift and one he did not question at the time. Yet, despite the blessing of having had somewhere to land after travelling hundreds of miles, he simply could not find himself to be grateful to the mare.
Astarte he could be thankful for; she'd led them here after all. Snapdragon he found sour and unimpressive. She stood on her own hooves, sure, but he found he choices she made illogical, especially where she trusted someone who may as well have been a stranger to fight for Paradise instead of him, her Second, the right choice. Someone with a tangible vested interest in the situation, but no. She'd trusted some nobody. So, Carthage refused to let her short-sightedness and poor judgment take him down with her and looked out for himself.
That was why he felt so smug, even now after all the time had passed. The tables had turned: he had the rule of his own land now, and she was the one looking for help. It was delicious. The male's expression shifted only a little as his head cocked a few degrees, feigning a moment to ponder the prospect. A raise of the brow here. A twitch of the ear there. Snapdragon was an impatient sort; so he could not delay much. He considered that she must consider her situation truly dire to come to him of all people. Another gift he would not squander.
The dark length of his tail lashed wetly against one side as lightning flashed above them. Its light cast wayward, reaching shadows across their hides: a stark reminder of the maelstrom darkening the skies above them. A cruel part of him wanted to say 'damn the storm' and stretch this moment out longer, but sense was doing its best to win out. They needed to shelter under the trees further in.. and soon. "You may stay," he intoned over the rainfall, eyeing the sky. Then, his gaze dropped heavily to Snapdragon. "If you do one thing first."
Screw sense.