Hazel eyes looked out across the beauty that was the land of Rayo, from behind chocolate threads that were trailing down her face, concealing the loneliness within. A slight sigh, came from her parted lips as she wandered with her thoughts. Her predicament. Her future. It was now up in the air, not certain like it had been when Tira had claimed her after she carelessly wandered pon' his lands. Though that had not turned out as badly as she had first envisaged- Tira had not been a tyrant, and she had settled into the lands and to him. Settled enough to be now carrying a son or daughter of his. A kick in her stomach made her bodice twitch, as though her unborn child had known that she was thinking about them. Lithe vanilla limbs moved into a slow walk, her rounded belly making her less inclined to move quickly and besides she had nothing to move quickly for. Rayo was as safe a land as could be. Even for a pregnant mare all on her own.

Over the past few months she had wondered what would become of Rayo. She was sure that if Tira did not return, they would be claimed, but noone yet had ventured to this lands and done so, which she took to hope that Tira might one day return. He often left to find other mares, she knew that, but he had always come back. She had also found that she had not seen either of the two other mares Tira had briefly mentioned to her. No scent hung in the air from them. Only hers. Even Tira's had departed.
Long grasses tickled her belly and legs as she wove her way through the meadow, the summer sun beating down pon' her chocolate and vanilla hued coat, tail constantly flicking away the irritation of midges that plagued her. She quickened up when she could bear their tiny bites no more and headed for the shade provided by a large tree in the centre of the meadow. From there she again surveyed Rayo, the epitome of peace and tranquility. Soon enough she would have some company, once the bundle of joy arrived, but Sequoia had not given much thought to what she would do when they did arrive, she had preferred not to think about how her life would change. She had expected Tira to be around, admittedly yes, he was not a stallion with a fondness for young'uns, but his protection would have been their. She could be carrying his heir....

Her thoughts returned to the possibility that someone might claim these lands. Where would that leave her?

-Sequoia-
-4-
-Mare-
-Bay Silver Dapple-
-15.2-

The scavenger had come to learn the secrets of Rayo after many moons of unadulterated wandering. Every nook and cranny, one could say, was familiar by sight and memory; and Rayo's many luscious perfumes (of the past and present) he knew by heart. So as the painted stallion grazed and the wind carried to him an unfamiliar scent, he immediately became consumed by curiosity. For the length of a sojourn Wuuthrex had wondered if, perhaps, some of the old herd would tumble back into the reaches of Rayo. The mind was subject of habit, after all, so why not? They would remember the safety of the evergreen wood, the rolling ocean of grasses, and know it was home even if its keeper had just up and disappeared. So he had waited, and waited, and waited. And he had grown bored with waiting and turned to indifference. An indifference that was quickly shed as he set off to examine and confront the trespasser.

Once espied, the mahogany dame never left his sight. For lack of a better word, Wuuthrex stalked the mare as she ambled along unawares; it was obvious she had little intention of causing a stir - in fact, he assumed she was probably looking for someone. The former lead, perhaps? Or maybe a fellow companion? Despite the knowledge ascertained so far, he admitted with a vexed huff of air that he still knew so little about his predecessors. Should the lead chose to return, and return with a regiment at his heel, he would be forced to flee. That notion he disliked to such a small degree. Already he had become fond of the - how should he put it? simplicity? - of this place, and to lose it because he did not know his enemy would be quite remorseful. So as quaint as she seemed, Wuuthrex made his choice. A choice she may or may not agree with.

"Lost?" Came the quaking baritone, but as a whisper it was more threatening than diplomatic. He approached from behind as silent as a bird of prey, and ceased just shy of touching distance. Tasting the heat of her skin as it rolled through the atmosphere and into his lungs was enough. "No, no, I don't think you are." His keen gaze studied the sculpted planes of her skeleton, noting rather murderously the gentle swell of her belly that indicated the early stages of pregnancy. A scavenger like him had little use for children, which did not bode well for what would come if he had his way. "So who are you looking for, hmm?"

She had been daydreaming, lost in world of all her own thoughts and wonderings, that the voice that snapped her back into the present made her jump a little. She knew instantly that this was the new King of Rayo. She was surprised to find that no ivories placed themselves upon her pelt, though she felt his breath so, so close to her...
She turned her body to face him as she considered her answer to his question..the first had seemed rhetorical, so she dismissed it, but it was the latter that was causing her to pause and choose her words carefully.
'You, I suppose...' she calmly replied back, recognising within herself that she was not the same quivering wreck she had been when she had first stepped within these lands and been claimed by Tira. 'I had rightly presumed that the lands of Rayo would not be left unclaimed for long, since Tira disappeared. They are quite beautiful and such a territory is a great prize for any stallion. Though, you don't need me to tell you that. I am Sequoia m'lord.' Accompanying her name, she lowered her head to produce a slight nod, submission, politeness, whatever. He could take it as he liked.

"Me?" He inquired with a reptilian grin, "well, I am - what should I say?" The question dangled in thin air as he fished for and snatched her gaze, "ah, yes," and he did not let go, "I am honored." Wuuthrex continued to maintain eye contact, staring down the length of his nose into her very round, very crystalline irises unblinkingly. He wasn't clear on what he was seeing exactly - surprise? She had a look on her face that he thought appeared half-stricken, half-dubious. Or maybe it was neither; perhaps she was nonchalant and he was trying to see something that was not there. It was like trying to catch smoke with his hands: it slipped through the gaps in his fingers and out between his teeth, fading into the wind. She was smoke, he thought, and he hoped his intrigue would not be met with disappointment.

She remarked on the land and mentioned a name he did not know, one that caused his ears to prick and his eyelids to spread wide. The rest of her ramble he ignored while he mulled over the letters, the rhythm of the name strung between his jaws. Tira. It seemed an odd name for a stallion to bear, feminine and docile, but who was he to judge? A name was a name. It was the stallion he wanted to know, to understand - the embodiment of threat should his predecessor chose to ever return. The fifty and five hundred questions that emerged from the depths of his mind he kept silently stowed away; when the moment came he would part from her what knowledge she had, but until that precise moment, he honed in again on her face, those ample eyes, and listened. "I am Sequoia, m'lord." M'lord? Abruptly, a coarse chuckle slithered out of the back of his throat and into the air, shaking the limp strands of his white hair. "M'lord?" he questioned again, bemusement riddling his tone like venom, "Sequoia you said your name was? Yes, well, Sequoia-" he shook the hair from his face to see clearly. The fine features of his facade were personable in this moment, but a shadow lingered along the outline; a warning. "Do not call me that again." There was a finality present in his words. A vow written in the script of one simplistic statement. Sighing, he blinked once, and then turned his gaze to the looming pines, the hazy ridge line. "M'lord was my father. I am Wuuthrex; shorten it however, I care not."

After a brief silence, the King of Rayo eyeballed her swollen belly through his peripherals. He reached the assumption that Sequoia carried a descendant of the enigma, Tira; how hopeful she was for this child he did not know, and he had not decided yet whether to care. It was an investment that required more attachment than he planned on divulging, however. It would be unjust for him to declare the child's life forfeit without an appeal, and Wuuthrex had never torn down an enemy while its back was turned. So, he quietly warred over the dilemma, and then vocalized it, broaching the subject with his entire authority as patriarch, “are you fond of it, Sequoia? The infant is the ‘it’ of which I speak.” It was not often that Wuuthrex took another into confidence, especially someone who was potentially his next victim, but she had been kind and sociable enough. And it was an inquisitive notion: would she really want to keep the bastard of the man who had abandoned her? “And the sire: tell me of him.”

( finished. )