Sleepy Fox Hollow zaun

While Selenia greeted the stallion, Fancy looked him over, from where she stood, trailing over the joints in each leg, the roundness of his hind quarters, the slope of his shoulder and thickness of his neck and strength of his jaw. These were his weapons, after all- and she wanted to ascertain that they were all in working order in spite of having seen him in action. Stallions always came with scars, pocketed hides from nips, bites, scratches and kicks- marks of battles fought and lessons learned. A stallion with no blemishes was hardly worth anyone's time; she found this one suitably marked. 

Her head jerked up at the filly's piping squeal, and she glanced back in time to see the girl skitter behind her mother. She snorted gently, more amused than anything, before she turned a cooler look back to the stallion. 

Good. It is against Equus' Laws of Prosperity for foals to be killed by a new herd stallion, She informed him, hoping it came more as a reminder, than news. Are you familiar with them? She asked, one ear flicked forward.