Hoshor Plains it was red

The wheeling shape approached her on slow feet, and she stretched her neck out to inhale the sharp scent of stallion. It made her balk, her withers tensing and quivering, but surprisingly she did not move. Swallowtail pushed down the fear, taking Mallow’s message to heart and pushing her ears down.

She swept forward on anxious feet, stopping for a moment to whiffle anxiously at the stallion, take in his scent and let him take in her own. Then, she slid past him, trotting the remaining space between her sisters and her and wordlessly placing her head against Selenia’s shoulder, before raising it again to whuffle at Mallow a few times.

They were safe. Swallowtail didn’t feel like she was safe, but she’d been as shy as a deer from the moment she’d been dropped, so it was an old feeling now.