All in all, it’s been a great year.
The war has finally erupted and passed, his position in the Chamber is finally rising, his herd is growing, and there are four new children running about the mountain territory. Life is good.
The golden stallion stands in the centre of his little herdland, breathing in the cool mountain air and surveying his little domain, pride in his heart. It’s been a good year, and he only sees it moving up from here.
He’s contemplating heading out in the direction of the field (he really should try recruiting for the Chamber), when a small movement catches his eye. Red eyes zero in, spotting a small blue roan filly with a speckled rump.
How curious … only one filly had been born to the herd this year, and this filly is most certainly not Ferox.
He breaks into a trot, zeroing in on the little girl. He notices a little blue butterfly, flitting about the girl’s head. When it alights on a nearby flower, he raises a hoof and crushes it, grinning. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? What’s your name little girl?” She smells distinctly of … Raincloud? But that can’t be right, he’d bred with Raincloud, to no result - the mare had told him herself. And this girl, this girl can’t be his - the spots are a dead giveaway. “Who’s your mother?”
ZAYN
I'm an ugly mess