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Whitechapel
((IDK what happened with the last post but its not letting me delete ittttt D: ))
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They come to him not long after he is born into the world. The ink of nght spreading to his coat, unlike the mare next to him he has survived the birthing. He has survived so the mare before him may become his dam, so the stallion with her may become his father, and so the boy accompanying them may become his brother. With little coaxing he is risen, eagirly lapping what milk the mare has to offer. He leans into the woman, ignoring the snorts of complaint from the other boy, he has been alone for what felt like forever, and the other would not ruin this day dream for him. "What shall we call him dearest?" The doe speaks, peering at the ebony stallion before them. His own blue hues travel to the man, eagirly awaiting his response.
Whitechapel