Sleepy Fox Hollow foolish men

aw >: )

the scent of a herd is heavy upon the valley, but selune has no interest in haughty stallions that rule their mares with an iron fist. she prefers her vagabond ways—grazing wherever she pleased without completion, sleeping beneath the stars with no one beside her. 

taking the valley by storm as if she owns it. hooves thunder and leave a trail of dust and grass. the mare cantering with a confidence untamed, a fire in her eyes that meant trouble. she'd only rest when she found a spot to graze. claiming it as her own—and she'd defend it as such, too. 

neck extended as she chews away at the blades of grass, ears turned sideways. soft snorts escaping her with each slow, lazy step forward, though her guard was never down.

sundown had been watching her long before she made her claim. from the ridge above, a short distance from the others. her golden coat blended with the last streaks of dying sunlight, a ghost of fire against the dusky sky. she moved alone.

with a flick of her tail, sundown descended, hooves striking dry earth. she wasn’t looking for trouble, but she wouldn’t run from it either. the closer she got, the more she took in—the way the mare carried herself, the way she ate with ears flicked sideways, alert. bold. fittingly so.

sundown didn’t stop grazing, didn’t challenge outright, but she let her presence settle in the woman’s space. a slow blink, a shift of weight. testing boundaries. would she be chased off when colosseum came? or was there room for one more? she hoped so—she liked the look of this one.

he stopped. watched.

not a filly’s dainty trot, no. this one cantered like she owned the godsdamned ground. like the whole world was her pasture and the sun her crown.

colosseum’s ears flicked forward, and a low nicker rolled from his chest. not a challenge, not a warning—
a call.

@Fancy, he grunted under his breath, neck arching as his eyes tracked the stranger.
come on, darlin'. we got a fire-walker on our hands.

he stepped forward slowly, head high, tail flicking once behind him. not to startle—but to show he wasn’t afraid. a signal.

he let out another short nicker. low, rumbling. friendly, but firm.
like a storm on the horizon that hadn’t yet chosen whether it would bring rain or fire.

she was beautiful, yes. but more than that—untouched. unclaimed. wild as the wind.
and colosseum, for all his size and sway, didn’t want to tame her.
just to know her name.

he slowed his step, ears flicking forward as he neared her edge of claimed grass.
you always graze like that, sugar? his breath huffed warm against the wind.
or is today just special?

The stranger grazed, and Fancy welcomed the approach of another mare, just like any other. Co-grazing with other bands of horses increased their safety- and loners seeking to graze alongside a herd would also find themselves included in the herd's protection. She left the woman to her space; she seemed content to graze on her own, rather than joining them.

She should have known that when Sundown began to watch the other mare, that she would be tempted to approach. It seemed to be a habit of hers- a habit that Fancy was keen to curb, when they had a herd stallion who could attend to such tasks. Fancy's current priority was minding her own daughter- but if she had to school a newcomer in the herd's ways, she would do so. 

Darlin.'

There was seemingly no end to Colosseum's charm. She snorted, bobbing her head in an acknowledgement, and nudged her filly toward @Selenia before she followed after the stud who moved to graze alongside the bay. It was a stallion's move, to see how close she might tolerate him. 

Fancy, however, moved forward and deftly offered a warning as she approached- the slicking back of both ears and bulging of her eyes- to Sundown. Her objective was to move her away from the lone mare, and back toward Selenia. Git! She grunted, jabbing her muzzle toward Sundown's painted hindquarters, keeping several feet between them as this was only a first warning. She'd only make contact if the mare proved to be stubborn.

down the shale and dry grass came another mare. selune would not lift her head, but simply shift in her stance. turning herself to keep an eye on the woman that was intruding on her patch while she continues to graze. she's a pretty thing—it'd be a shame to have to ruin that.

not aggressive—not yet—but certainly not friendly, either. she's content on watching; readying herself to chase the mare off should she get too close. nostrils flare as she exhales a short whinny of acknowledgment. 

and then, there's a stallion's bellow over the ridge. only then does her head raise, jaw setting as she chewed away at the cud. a handsome beast that wears the scent of many mares; a leader. 

her ears pin. she throws her head and scrapes a hoof at the ground. sizing the stallion up and down as her muscles twitch and tense beneath her dusty coat. eyes flickering with disinterest. 

"ain't your sugar." she scoffed. "what'chu want? was grazin' in peace for you and your goons rolled up." came her feisty bite. eyes narrowing as she watched the two mares bicker.

sundown had seen stallions before. plenty of them thought they owned the land just because their hooves touched it, thought they owned the mares just because they breathed the same air. but this one—colosseum—approached differently. slow. measured. she saw the way he carried himself, power held in check, curiosity woven into his steps like a storm deciding if it would break.   

and yet, it wasn’t him that got her ears twitching. it was his lead mare, fancy. the older mare cutting between her and the bay with the sharp, warning energy only seasoned mares could wield, a command to move along. sundown didn’t bolt. she wasn’t some green-broke filly to be scattered by a glare. instead, she shifted her weight, ears tipping back as fancy jabbed her muzzle toward her hindquarters. a beat passed—one second, maybe two—before sundown’s hip cocked, a hind leg lifting just enough to make a point. a ghost of a kick, nothing but air between them, but the message was clear: back off.

a lesser horse might have skittered off, but sundown wasn’t bred for obedience. she was wild to the marrow, and even if she wasn’t looking to fight, she wasn’t one to be herded like some fresh-caught filly—didn’t need her command or nor her guidance. then, just as smoothly, she let her steps carry her a few strides away, a sharp snort huffing from her nostrils as she turned enough to keep both fancy and the stallion in her sights.

the stranger had fire, just as sundown suspected. colosseum's approach was sugary sweet, but too much so—the woman had no interest in sweetness. she liked her already.

ain’t your sugar. sundown liked that, too.

colosseum didn’t take offense. if anything, the bay roan’s fire sparked a quiet amusement beneath his sandy-gold eyes. he eased to a halt a few lengths away, muscles loose beneath his roan coat, head slightly lowered—not submissive, just respectful. the kind of stance a stallion took when he wasn’t lookin’ to start nothin’... but wasn’t about to back down either.

ain’t callin’ you sugar, he said with that slow, easy voice, smooth as creekwater in spring. just bein’ sweet.

a glance over his shoulder at fancy and sundown, a quiet check. the herd was fine. fancy had handled the younger mare like only a seasoned lead could. his job now was keepin’ things calm, maybe even friendly.

didn’t mean to bother your graze. figured if we was sharin’ grass, i’d be polite and offer my name, not a challenge.

he took a breath, let the quiet settle. he didn’t crowd her. didn’t puff his chest or toss his mane like some fool colt tryin’ to impress. she wasn’t the type to be impressed by that anyway.

colosseum, he offered, voice steady, the smile still tuggin’ soft at the corners of his mouth.

Sundown hesitated, as if Fancy’s imperative had been little more than a horsefly buzzing about her flanks. A hoof raised and flicked, a dismissal that caused the sorrel to blast out a snort of hot air through her nostrils. 

The mare moved, but with a reluctance that could cost lives in the future. 

She’d exercised restraint in offering a warning first- a kindness offered to newcomers and foals who had yet to show resistance. It hadn’t had the desired effect. If she didn’t dig in her heels now, Sundown could continue to be a problem. Fancy had dealt with unruly colts before- but a lazy, wander-prone mare who wouldn’t listen to a gentle prompt from her lead was worse.  

She moved forward, shifting in demeanour to that of a striking cobra.  She plunged both forefeet to the earth as she crowded her chest against the paint’s hindquarters, so any buck or kick might be stifled by the pressure. She flattened her ears and reached to deliver a stiff pinch to the taught, sunset skin over one flank in a clear message to say move!

"sweet?" selune guffawed, nostrils flailing with her amusement. heavy hooves shifting atop grass, tail swaying with what might be growing irate. "do i look like the typa woman that wants sweet?" came her taunting drawl. 

sweet isn't what beguiled her. it never has; sweet is weak, unimpressive. she'd prefer her men to have a little fight in them, rather than charming smiles and smooth voices. but she'd entertain him for now...

her walk around him is slow, measured. he's strong and fit, everything perfectly for a herd's stallion. but she wouldn't be interested 'less he had some bite to him. something more than smiles that made her wanna bite. 

the commotion behind them makes her bristle. she whips her head around to watch what must be his lead mare. a strong thing, something she could maybe respect. but she wouldn't tolerate that bitching being aimed toward her. 

"y'like your women wild, huh?" she snorted. "lookit' 'em fightin' like a buncha colts." she pauses, giving him one last look up and down. "name's selune."

sundown wasn’t stupid. she knew the rules of herd life, even if she was reluctant to their heirarchy. but she wasn’t some unruly child who didn’t understand a warning—she had moved, apparently just not fast enough for fancy’s liking. and now, the older mare pressed in.

sundown felt the weight before she felt the pinch, the way fancy’s body crowded against her, cutting off any real chance at a proper kick. smart, but sundown had never needed brute force to get her point across.

she let out a sharp snort, ears flicking back, but she didn’t lash out again. instead, she stepped off with a fluid grace, tossing her head just once as if shaking off the touch, a ripple of tension rolling down her golden hide. she shifted just far enough to appease, just far enough to show she wasn't really looking to brawl with a mare she'd just met.

a breath, slow and measured, then a glance—half-lidded, assessing, sharp as the sinking sun. fucking relax, she'd not even done anything. then, just like that, she went back to grazing. unbothered. unhurried.

colosseum rolled his eyes so hard it might’ve rattled something loose in his skull.

mares.

the lot of ‘em were fire and thistle this evening, and sundown—sundown, with her sideways sass and golden glint—was starting to test the line between grace and grief.

he stomped his forelimbs into the soft earth, a heavy thud followed by a sharp snort. his ears pinned briefly, tail flicking with a snap.

don’t be gettin’ an attitude now, sundown.

he didn’t bark it. didn’t bite. just said it like a stallion with exactly enough patience left to keep from snapping the next twig in his path.

then, he turned back to selune.

the new one.
she was circling him like she wanted proof. lucky for her, he was nothing but proof—of strength, of form, of flame held tight in the gut.

he didn’t strut, didn’t bow. didn’t need to.

his dominance wasn’t in the parading. it was in how still he stood. how the ground didn’t dare move under him. how his muscles coiled under hide like thunder behind mountains.

let her walk.
let her look.

he let his breath roll slow from his nostrils, like smoke from a fire not yet stoked.

selune.

he tested the name on the inside of his teeth.
yeah. she looked like trouble.
and he was just bored enough to let it come closer.

She felt the muscles in her shoulder tense as she prepared to shift her hooves, should the paint deke and clip her ankles with a hoof. The mare’s mane rose and swayed as if caught in a wave when she shook her neck, and there was a bounce to her step when she- thank Equus- moved. 

Fancy didn’t pursue her. Once the correction was made, she eased off on the pressure. Her ears flicked forward, and her expression gentled. A fluttering of her nostrils relaxed her lips, a shake of her head lifted the sunken pit behind each eye. Colosseum reinforced her position- a gesture she appreciated. 

She turned one shoulder to the paint as she began to resume grazing, keeping her own space- between Sundown and the pair of equines who became acquainted with one another. She lowered her head so she too might enjoy the fresh patch of grass- though she watched with some interest to see how Colosseum might work his magic on this mare- and if she could be impressed. 

He didn’t flaunt himself, which was a bit of a disappointment. She did like to see men dance.

cameo!

to see fancy in her element was to witness a side of her friend that selenia had not seen before. content enough to be nursemaid for the new foals, her own ears pinned when she saw that sundown did not move with alacrity.

a low, growling sound warned the mare, but selenia returned to nursing one foal and preening the other. she was not lead, nor did she desire to be. such disrespect to the one who was, who had kept them safe with no stallion — she did not like it.

her eyes watched colosseum as he was circled by the second new horse, ears pricked in curiosity at this display as well.

"hm. dunno if it'll do ya any good to remember it." came her sharp reply. he stood still and strong—strong to suit her needs, maybe—but he'd done nothing but talk and charm. 

she's growing bored. with a flick of her tail, she quits her assessment. turns from the stallion and his group of mares. eyeing the sun-kissed woman who'd started the little quarrel with a small smirk. too bad the scuffle so over; bitch fights always made for good entertainment. 

selune ambles away from the stallion, her disinterest prevalent. "ain't lookin' to join no herd." she snorted, before she finally lowered her head to begin grazing once again. should the man and his mares choose to chase her off, then so be it. 

he's done nothing so far to convince her to stay.

colosseum grumbled under his breath—low, throat-deep, the kind of sound that stirred dust from the ribs. mares. his mares. and now this one, selune, tossing her head like she hadn’t just circled him like a wolf scenting meat.

hnh, he muttered to himself, lips twitching with annoyance. ain’t lookin’ to join no herd—like he was some common colt with flowers in his teeth.

fine.

let her look again.

he squared himself, legs planted wide, and flared his nostrils with a deep huff. the kind that told the ground to listen. his muscles bunched, then rolled under his skin like a gathering storm, his neck arching high as his tail flicked out behind him, proud and sharp.

he reared—powerful and clean, forelegs slicing the air, hooves slamming down hard enough to rattle a stone loose.

then he moved—long, sweeping strides in a sharp half-arc. not for distance, but for display. chest out, head tucked, the curve of him a deliberate, dominant silhouette against the dying sun. sweat caught the light along his flank; every shift of his gait declared his weight, his claim, his worth.

he wasn’t just some mountain-bred brute.
he was colosseum.

he stole a glance toward fancy mid-step, catching the flick of her ear, the turn of her shoulder. a nod to her. always. she knew the work he was doing here.

then back to selune.

she didn’t have to stay.

but she’d remember the stallion who made the earth move to prove he could carry her weight.

She flicked an ear as the bay roan tossed a dart toward the stallion's pride- a bold move, for one who did not truly know the nature of the man she spoke to. A flippant comment could have earned her a hard day of being herded around constantly by a man with a snaking head, just to teach her that the herd was his ballet, and that he was the choreographer for every single footfall. She dared to take that risk, and she was either extremely bold and willing to be run off her hooves for a day, or she'd read Colosseum well enough to know that he wouldn't do that to her. 

She lifted her head the moment he moved his feet, watching with an appraising gaze as Colosseum collected himself. She often wondered how it was that a stallion could go from being dusty and dull to gleaming and rippling in a matter of seconds, and while she didn't have any answers, she was certainly happy to continue doing her research. She watched, pausing her chewing when he climbed the airs, and then struck the earth as if he meant to summon the spirits of the dead. Mmmhmm, She uttered softly to herself, inaudible over his heavy hoofbeats. 

She snorted and bobbed her head when he looked her way, a swish of her tail proclaiming her own satisfaction, and vouching for the safety and security he had provided for them.  She looked to Selune for her reaction, curious to see if the mare could be impressed; the decision would be up to the roan.