Sleepy Fox Hollow Mint

cameo!

colosseum stood guard—shoulders broad, hooves planted firm as stone at the edge of the glade. the moonlight, waning but proud, silvered the curve of his muscled haunches as he pivoted his ears forward, backward, sweeping the air for the smallest shift of sound. nothing would touch them tonight.

his breath steamed, slow and warm. he could smell the newness of life from here—milk, blood, and the soft, sweet scent of a foal barely dry. fancy had done it. strong as ever. his lead mare.

the roan stallion let out a low rumble, tail flicking once behind him. to the north, silence. to the east, a fox's tread over brush. no danger. he snorted and glanced back over his shoulder.

he caught a glimpse: fancy curled around the filly, selenia watching close with that glint in her eyes, laughter dancing between them like dandelion fluff on a spring breeze. colosseum’s gaze softened. he may not speak much, but this—this was why he stood where he did. why he bore every scar, every storm.