Hoshor Plains Blacks and bays, dapples and greys

Please see the note in his profile if you intend to hunt Grassdancer or the other NPC characters in his herd.

The grass had grown shorter in the plains where they had last roamed. Cropped down by the herd with the chestnut stud, who wasn't worth trifling with. He'd been especially wary of the band of bachelors this year, and with good reason. Three of them would be contenders in the next year to challenge for a herd of their own- it was a surprise already that the dark grey, Quasar, had not even just a mare or two at his side already. He was patient, and knew to save his strength for when he could steal more than just a pre-bred mare and her yearling foal. 

The white-grey and the sorrel bickered and jousted in the fresh layer of snow once they came to the Hoshor plains. In the distance, other bands, all which came together in relative peace in the wintertime. They'd have less chance of being singled out by wolves, if there were more bands grazing in the same area. 

For the bachelors, they had even less to worry about- no pregnant mares, no yearlings- save for the one with the medicine hat. But he'd been accepted among them as an additional pair of eyes, who often got stuck with the late night shift. And his blue eyes could search out nearly anything that moved in the dark; he had excellent senses. 

Grassdancer was often sent out to scout out the plains, and was a common sight among the bands. His smoky grey pelt and pleasant expression often made a few mares lift their heads, but the stallions knew all it would take to fend him off would be the flattening of ears. Of course, he knew to give them space; his job, among the throng of bands, was to scout out the ground. If anything came at them at speed, they would have to run- and the secret danger lay in the ground. 

Gopher holes. As Grassdancer, it was his job to scout them out, and mark them with a pile of dung, or scraping with his hoof. That way, a herd sent into a charge would avoid those areas, and avoid breaking legs in those holes in the ground. He was known to most for being charitable in this way- and it had gained him one meeting with a shy, red roan mare before he'd been ushered away. Their secret now grew in her belly- but he was not strong enough yet to challenge the paint who claimed her. 

For now, he was simply the Grassdancer, the one in charge of making sure their fields were flat and hard, to scout out the best grounds to eat, and to keep an eye on the horizon for predators. With this much open space, he could see for miles. Many ears listened, many eyes watched.