A Torn Heart} Any

[magnus]

you and I both know that the house is haunted
and you and I both know that the ghost is me

He laughs and the sound is husky and genuine, rolling from his mouth with ease. “How unfortunate for you that a rather un-dashing stallion.” Self-deprecating humor, although Magnus did not necessarily suffer from a low self esteem. He just often didn’t think of the matter at all. He was built strong, which had meant he was able to protect those he loved, and that is all he cared about. “And I’m not even a herd stallion.” Not that he hadn’t considered it before; it seemed appealing, the idea of a small herd surrounded by female companions in a peaceful corner of the world. It had just never felt like the right time.

Magnus was born a warrior from a warrior King and Queen. He had been raised in the Jungle, before fighting in the Chamber and being promoted to its Lord. He’d gone on to lead the Gates as its Commandant and then its King before fighting in the Dale’s army. His resume was that of a soldier, and an often skilled one. The quiet life of a herd stallion, despite its appeals, had just never been for him.

Smiling, he watched her move toward the willow, his attention never leaving her. “I live in a beautiful place called Heaven’s Gates. I like to come to the field to see if there are those who would be interested in calling her home too.” He pauses for a second, “I do feel obligated to tell you that we have recently suffered from an attack, but it has been peaceful for almost a year now. We do not anticipate any future violence.” He pauses, almost bashful, “I can tell you more about if you’d like, or I can help you find a nice herd if that is what you’d prefer.” Matching someone to the right home was always important to him.

MAGNUS

once general. once lord. once king.