A male horse wanting to make a herd.

Syn glanced at the stallion, her wounds stinging. She couldn't move.

Syn closed her eyes, tearing to forget about the unbearable pain of her cuts.

The stallion turned to see a mare at his fence, and swiftly charged into action, neighing to her as he cantered in her direction. "Hello, who are you?" he nickered, reaching over the fence and trying to touch her nose to his. His pretty white mask illuminated his light brown, almost translucent eyes. Then, before he could get an answer, she started kicking at the fence. "I've already tried! It's useless. There's some kind of metal wire surrounding it, and it stings when you get too close," he told her, frantically flicking about his eyes. Well, I could try to jump it again. The stallion stamped his hooves and reared back. "Wait, I might be able to jump over it," he said, then turned around and trotted in a full circle, gaining speed and widening the circle until he was cantering straight toward the tall fence. He let loose a loud whinny as he leapt from his hind legs and soared through the air above the fence, drawing his knees to his chest as he cleared the fence, then gracefully outstretched them as he landed on the other side. But there was a painful stinging on his belly, and he neighed in pain and started bucking again. "Ow, that hurt!" The stallion stamped his hooves and shook his head from side to side, pacing back and forth a bit. Finally, he turned around, as if just realizing the mare was there, and let his eyes melt onto hers. "Thanks for helping me, miss. My name's Diablo. And what may I call you, sweet-hooves?" he asked with a seductive tilt of his brow, cocking up his head so that his crest looked even more buffed up and impressive.

Diablo nickered softly to the mare, and lifted his head and pinpointed his ears toward the direction of the small herd the mare had gestured to. "Why aren't you in an enclosure like me?" he asked, snorting a bit in puzzlement. How was it that these horses could run around free but he couldn't? Then he remembered. I can run around now! Go wherever I like... At this spontaneous epiphany, the stallion whinnied happily and trotted straight forward toward the lake. "I'll be back in a minute!" he called over his shoulder, whipping his hooves against the ground as he jetted across the scenery like a discharged bullet, whistling through the air toward his target. Except he didn't really have a target. The stallion spotted the lake and took in its vastness with wide eyes. Unbelievable. He slowed to a canter, then a light trot, and finally a walk as he came to a shallow cove and dipped his head at the water's edge to drink his fill. This is great!

After guzzling down a couple gallons, the stallion backed away from the cove and started trotting around, enjoying the scenery. He looked across the lake and saw houses on the water's edge, as if they were floating. There were boats, too, lots of boats. This didn't look like the place he was from at all. He came from a place where it was hot and humid, and there were cattle all around. He remembered being brushed three times a day, and his coat was always gleaming like the sun. He got the best oats and hay, and all of the pasture he could eat and run around in, but there was still something missing. A herd. He had been separated from his mother and his birth hood as a yearling, and then kept in an enclosure separate from them. He could see them, but never get close enough to touch. It saddened him deeply. And then, one day, they hauled him into a dark trailer with barely any holes for light or breathing. It seemed like he was in there for days before they finally let him out. It was a cold night, much colder than he was used to, and there was white stuff on the ground. It stuck to his hooves. When he touched his nose to it, it made him shiver. And then, all of the sudden, he was in a dirt corral. It was too high to jump. Men came in with ropes and shiny things, and they started running and jumping all around him, scaring him. They forced a metal thing in his mouth. It tasted bitter, like salt, only salt was good. And he didn't want to remember the rest.

With a shudder from the memories, the stallion tried to clear himself of his thoughts, and as he wandered about aimlessly through the clearing, he saw more horses drinking by the lake. It seemed to be a stallion and a mare. Should he disturb them to say hello? Probably not. He didn't know any of these horses, and it had been a long time since he actually got to interact with a herd.

Deciding it better to leave them be, the chestnut overo? stallion started heading back the way he had come. As he trotted along, he soon saw the mare from before and whinnied over to her to alert her and the others of his presence so that he didn't startle them. The stallion watched from a distance, not wanting to get between a stallion and his mare and foals. That could spell for disaster.