05-26-2015, 05:50 PM
He’s not entirely sure what’s brought him to the meadow on this particular day. The breeding season is over, and all of the vulnerable mares searching for mates have disappeared back to wherever they had come from. He’d managed to bag a few of them this season - come spring time, four of his little offspring will be waltzing around somewhere in Beqanna. He hopes some of them will inherit his trait, but he won’t really be around to find out.
All of that said, there are no mares in estrus left here today. And yet, his hooves had still carried him to this place. Why? Who knows. Perhaps he wants to know what’s become of the mares that are currently carrying his children.
Quietly, the iron stallion slips to the far side of the meadow, where he can watch the goings on in peace. Perhaps he will spy someone he recognizes soon.
All of that said, there are no mares in estrus left here today. And yet, his hooves had still carried him to this place. Why? Who knows. Perhaps he wants to know what’s become of the mares that are currently carrying his children.
Quietly, the iron stallion slips to the far side of the meadow, where he can watch the goings on in peace. Perhaps he will spy someone he recognizes soon.
K H A O S
iron son of carnage and oswyn
hell is empty and all the devils are here
Reference here
Eww this post
@[Sinexuss]