Sleepy Fox Hollow piltover

They waited. Distant hoofbeats drummed the cold earth in a steady, rhythmic pattern- until the pattern was interrupted, and turned into a quiet cacophony. She listened for a moment to see if it was some trick of the hollow, but when she heard a low whicker, she bobbed her head. 

A challenger. She noted, impressed that their herdmaster might have to fight for his role. C’mon, let’s go watch, She said. Better to be warmed up, anyway, She said with a roll of her eyes. 

If the mares were in sight, the stallions might seek to push them around, direct them into a run as a means of flexing his ability to command a herd. She lowered her head, stretching her neck out into a long straight line before she shuddered violently, and licking her lips to free the tension from her jaw, she moved ahead, her knees popping quietly as she set herself into motion. 

She halted for a moment. No matter what, She breathed, We don’t get separated. 

It was a promise. 

Then on, to take a place as a spectator.