He gazed at the mare, anger began to boil as he could see her anger. She was truly a stubborn mare and she refused to believe anything he said. He was angry, but not at any of that, he was angry by the way the mare treated him. She belittled him, and made him out to be a vicious stag. Has she ever been near an asshole? He surely was not one, if she wanted to find out what an asshole was she should go to the neighboring herd and talk to that stallion. She surely would come running to Archam at that point, asking him to take her back.
His ears pinned against his head as she asked how another could ever love him. He was truly a gentleman and all of his mares in the herd were here by choice, and because they enjoyed Archams company one way or another. At this point she was offending his herd, not just himself. He stood there allowing the mare to savagely spit out everything she desired, truly showing her disgust for him. And than she came down with an offer, one so juicy that his ears pricked forward. She offered her first born filly to Archam, something truly interesting. If she hated him so much why would she ever offer her daughter to him, surely she knew that he would breed with her. Would she be such a terrible mother that she would offer her filly to him just to get herself away from him? Although it was an offer he could not turn down.
He gave a nod and moved aside so she could freely go back to the Dale I accept your offer, you are free to return to the Dale so long as you hand deliver your first born daughter to me the day she turns two. Do not fill her head with non sense, allow her to make her own decisions. I will hold you to this deal he gave a snort waiting for her to run off, back to Phaderus.
COTY
Assailant -- Year 226
QOTY
"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Birds of a feather ... [Archam, Any]
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