07-31-2016, 08:43 PM
He stands atop an escarpment overlooking his portion of the badlands; from up there, he spots the black mare easily and tracks her course through the canyon until she is brought up short by the orange flowers. She seems to realize that she has strayed far from wherever it is that she originated from, and he keeps an eye on her as she decides to travel deeper into the oasis that she discovers. He cannot blame her, the land is deceptive and beautiful and the smell of it is nearly as sweet as that of a mare in heat to him.
The big bay leaps down the escarpment in a clatter of small loose rocks that roll away beneath his hooves. In a matter of strides, he is beside her; close enough to hear the awe change to exasperation in her voice as she realizes the mistake she has made. “Something wrong?” he remarks with a grin that is more sneer than anything else. It would be a lie to say that he did not delight in the error she has made by trespassing so deeply into his territory. Deep enough, he thinks, that he cannot rightly let her go now. No, that would be foolish on his part to just escort her right back out.
His eyes regard her with a twinge of impatience as if he has expected an answer already; maybe he does, he lacks patience nowadays unless it is with the fruit of his own loins, those sons and daughters that used to trail obediently and happily after him. He paws at the red rock underfoot and says, “Well?” Mandan fully expects her to balk at the idea of taking up permanent residence in his herd but he thinks his horns will be enough to convince her to remain, unless she wishes to pit her small mettle against his brawny might… and he almost relishes the idea of such a challenge, except in his mind’s eye he’s fighting a salmon-pointed bay mare instead who was just as small and delicate as the black is.
He snorts fiercely, dispelling the vision in his head and snakes his horned head around her flanks in an attempt to drive her further into the oasis. If there was any kindness left in him, it was in the fact that he did not actually prod her with his horns to move, just feinted at her flesh and dodged back out of the way of a misplaced bite or kick. For the first time in a long time, he almost smiled in anticipation of what was to come (she reeked of the Deserts, like his mother did, and maybe that put him in mind of the black being of a hardier breed having come from there).
ooc: ew, this got bad fast lol