It had been two seasons since Sathona had tried to find a home. The two stallions that had approached had done nothing to help her with her desire. Perhaps fate was too fickle, or should she simply give up? Though she was not the warrior her mother presented herself to be, Sathona knew that giving up wasn’t an option. She had simply bided her time, that was all.
When the young mare walks into the Commons now, she is not the drowned rat she had appeared to be last time. Though she cannot help that her mane parts to lay haphazardly on both sides of her neck, or that her short but thick tail bushes out like a coyote’s, she is still confident she looks better than before. So as she stops in the open meadow, the young mare raises her head and looks around with what she hoped appeared to be confidence despite how her heart hammered in her chest.
Who was she kidding? Sathona could never be as confident as her mother. Her black rimmed ears flick back in her wavering confidence, and she turns, preparing to retreat back the way she’d come. This was stupid. Why had she come here when it had gone so wrong last time? This time would be no different.
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