Hoshor Plains grow straight like a sapling

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Nechako was lucky to have such a fine wife. She cared for things he thought nothing of, which made her an asset. Where he was weak, she was strong. Together they could bring the next generation in to the world, a generation that would spread their story and pass them in to history. Nechako feared being forgotten; he wished to live on in the stories of elders and in the minds of children, for that was immortality. He wanted to be so great and powerful that none could rival him, but many would try. It began with chosing the perfect mares for his harem — and he had done that. In finding Atna and Kuzkwa, he ensured the prosperity of his bloodline and the endlessness of his spirit.

Atna worried for them both. Sometimes he thought she was too cautious, but he never would speak ill of her. She would be a good mother to Tseax and to this new child, teaching them the ways of their people and the taboos that came along with them. The value of the herd versus the lone wanderer — for horses were not like most animals. They were social like other mammals, but they were herd-locked in their mentality. Nechako knew the great value of the herd although he tested the limits often.

I do not go away for long, he corrected, sounding self-assured as usual. The stallion began to groom at his wife's mane with his teeth, carefully nibbling at tiny debris that had tangled among the hairs, and occasionally doting upon her with some scratching for the spots of her neck she could not reach. And you have Skoonka to protect you. Soon Tseax will mature and he will protect you too. All is well, my wife.
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