Sleepy Fox Hollow piltover

She watched the stallions with interest, flicking her tail when the heron hissed. She turned her head to land one dark eye upon the heron, noting its flared feathers. This is our way. She murmured softly. The stallions would clash and battle. Most fights were over within a matter of minutes, and ended with one stud being chased away by the other. 

She turned back to begin watching as the stallions brought their muzzles together. She instinctively flattened her ears, expecting to hear a squeal. The darker stallion bit and wheeled. Underneath her breath, Fancy uttered Nail him! as she watched him prepare to kick out- he hesitated. She clicked her tongue.

A shrill whinney caused her to spook and jig sideways, staring back into the treeline only to see a stocky young horse making a beeline toward them, followed by a bay mare whose hips jutted beneath her worn pelt. She did not recognize Silverbirch until the weanling cried out for her mother. Sweet Equus, She breathed, smiling faintly at the girl who had grown, and changed into a thick, dark winter pelt. She’d grown a hand or two at least in height- and had put on some weight. 

She snorted, and whickered to the weanling, welcoming her to the herd. The bay hobbled behind- but Fancy was very much a sports fan, and while mother and daughter reunited and the stranger took her time to amble toward them, she had a fight to watch.