Sleepy Fox Hollow piltover

Alexa play Ironside by Quincy Jones

a whinny thundered across the desert, answered by the gentle bray of a mare. uzumati’s ears prick. his lips curled in flemen response; measuring the wind, the band’s health, the irritating presence of a stallion. 

 recently ousted from his own band and sorely needing to refuel his ego, uzumati moved. his hooves churned gravel; the slow loping of his body over prairie. 

in short order he found the stallion first; a low whicker rumbling from his muzzle as he approached in posturing machismo. 

first the flagged tail and virile arch of his thick neck; the sclera of his eyes exposed and muzzle in a taut line. 

then the swag of his snapping hocks and powerful spanish walk; all bravado with the hint of violence lurking underneath.

he just needed to get close first, and show this man a proper tango.