Hoshor Plains it was red

the mares were alert. they each became agitated and eager, hearing the stomping of hooves. fancy came to corral them; the stallion continued to swagger in the space between, wary, and he saw the way the distant shape came to a stop.

one of the sisters drew his attention and asked his help; he looked to fancy as lead mare, and she was agreeable to this. maplesmoke headed off from the clutch of mares to the solitary stranger.

as he neared he reached out, stretching his neck, shaking his mane; looking altogether draconian in his amble. come, woman. your sisters await. would they stay out here or would maplesmoke be heeded? he gave a whistle, impatient.