She was a bold little thing, that was certain. She bluffed as if she didn't know the Lagoon was dangerous, that the beasts within were oft the stuff of nightmares told to little fillies to make them stay home. Her insolence would be annoying if I wasn't in the mood to play with my food.

A roguish half-smirk twists my lips as I reply, amusement flickering in my dark eyes. "Considering you are trespassing, birdie," I say, continuing my circling. "Yes."

Of course, the Lagoon was by it's very nature a land oft crisscrossed by various passersby. We did our best to keep the borders secure, but in my experience the vast majority of effort was spent on keeping prisoners in, not on keeping strangers out. Especially when half the time, the strangers were luscious little gems that were perfect decorations for the otherwise drab Lagoon.

She references a name I do not know, which isn't really surprising. There are thousands of horses across these isles, many of which I had no interest in learning the names of. But there is no reason I can't play with this pretty girl. No reason I can't occupy a little more of her time, learn a little more about her. Figure out who was so bold as to send a mare to the Lagoon on a suicide mission when it was all but guaranteed one of us would take notice of her.

"And whats in it for me if I tell you what I know?" I ask, drawing my pace to a slow halt as I cocked my head at her. I was hardly the sort of stallion one could call soft or cuddly or nonthreatening, given the battle scars that lined my coat and the muscles that were bound tightly beneath my coat, but I softened the look in my eyes. Manipulation was, after all, my favorite game, and it'd be a long, long time since I'd had a turn.

Stallion - Adult - 15.2 - Brown Overo