The young girl found it hard to sleep these days, though it had far more to do with her own self-appointed task than it did any kind of outside influence. As more and more of the Peak mares gave birth to their children, she felt obligated to be more useful to her sisters. To run more patrols, to linger at the borders, to watch the Commons like a hawk.

No one tasked her with any of this, but that hardly mattered. It was her duty, as a sister, to be useful. Her mother was the Prime Minister and her sister a warrior like herself. She needed to prove herself, to be useful. To be someone her momma could be proud of.

So when her hooves first cross the trail of a Lagoonie - known to her by nothing more than the fetid damp-wet smell of the land itself - she follows it inland, heart thrumming with excitement and nerves. All she can do is imagine the scene she will come across, and how satisfying it will be to throw her hooves into the brute trying to force her sister away. The way she will meet them in battle and how her sister - whoever she is - will join her in chasing him out.

The way that... her imagination wilts as she encounters the true scene before her. Karlach stills, one hoof still lifted as she looks upon the sad-faced mare and the stallion before her. This was... not what she had been expecting. Where was the violence she'd been coached to believe of the Lagoon men? The blatant entitlement they displayed when they took what did not belong to them? The arrogance and cruelty and stupidity that she had long ago learned solely belonged to the Lagoon.

Her eyes narrowed and ears pinned before she decided that it didn't matter. What mattered was that he was where he wasn't supposed to be.

"Get out." She snarled, bowing her neck and stalking toward the stallion with her ears pinned. She didn't know the new mare by more than sight, but that was enough. She was a sister, and sisters were to be protected.