Common

and drag your ass where you belong;

He honestly hadn’t expected it to work. He’d been gone for so long, wandering aimlessly in those long-lost lands of his father after his mother died – everything was different when he returned. He and Sigurdr had never been close, for all that his poor mother had tried. His father was too flighty, too often called home to the distant, icy shores.
Oren had tried to follow, when Esther died. Tried to hunt down his father and make him pay. He…hadn’t been successful.
So when he got back to the islands and started skulking about, looking for a place to go, he was shocked when the very first territory he stopped in held a formidable mare, Baba Yaga, open to him remaining – if he did his part, of course.
So Oren settled into his new life in the Forest, and is strangely eager to start a herd of his own. That’s what’s brought him to the Commons today. And it is a good thing he did – he spies possibly the prettiest mare he’s ever seen, She emerges from the ocean, all grace and gleaming hide and he is struck dumb for a moment.
Even the way she moves - there’s something magnetic about it, and he takes a half-step forward before hesitating. What does he have to offer her? He’s only just found a home, gained the right to build a herd of his own. And he certainly doesn’t know what to do with a mare when he does manage to get her back to the Forest.
But everyone starts somewhere, right? And he came here for a reason – this reason. So he takes a deep breath and then heads straight to the mare. And….shit. She’s a full head taller than him. It’s always been a bit of an insecurity, his smaller size courtesy of his even tinier mother. But it is even worse when he’s with a mare head and shoulders taller than him, and he wants to impress her.
Nothing to do for it now, he supposes, stealing himself for the inevitable barbs around his stature. “Hi,” he greets, offering a tentative grin. “I don’t get why you’re alone - you’re the prettiest mare I’ve ever seen.”

OREN