Take a Hint (Private)

War was on the horizon, it seemed, but Snake wasn’t nearly as worried as he should have been. With his youthful spirit brimming with overconfidence and the hot- blooded urge to fight, he felt nearly invincible. Let him at those Olde horses! He would teach them a lesson or two! They would flee his home with their tails between their legs like frightened grass beasts! He would be certain to mar their coats and minds with his fear instilling name with the awesome force of his supreme strength! He snorted with fulfilment just thinking about it. How delightfully glorified it seemed…this war. He could hardly contain his anticipation. He was undaunted by the prospect of the upcoming spar to determine who would take part in the battle and weed out the weak. He was positively certain he could defeat whomever he was up against. He was a young, fit stallion with an abundance of enthusiasm for the task. What could possibly divert his eminent path to victory?

It was these self-motivating thoughts that orbited his mind as the tall appaloosa strutted proudly toward his herd, intending to take a break from his afternoon duties in order to graze and impress the broods with tales of his positively stunning abilities, instilling their weak, feminine minds with images of himself in glorious battle. Well…that had been the plan anyway. He paused on the fringes of the herd, his yellow gaze sweeping along a group of broods lingering in the summer field. He lowered his head and nibbled absent mindedly at the emerald blades, his eyes resting on a nearby equine. Having chosen his target, Snake picked up and easy, ambling gait, nearing his quarry. Perhaps he’d get lucky.
Like him, her coat was a mess of disorganized spots, just made up of a different coloration and pattern. Her age did little to sway him, he had known who she was when he decided to pay her a little visit. Mama Sheva, many called her, due to her apparent maternal incline that extended beyond her own bloodline. He’d met one of her so-called ‘adopted’ foals, a little mule mare, Ebony. As well as one of her biological brats, Tobias. He, however, had experienced little association with her that he could remember. Perhaps she’d offered him milked now and then when he was young as was required of a brood? He couldn’t quite remember. His father had discouraged close relationships with females. He had made sure he had nursed from many different mares to keep him from forming a bond with anyone in particular. No girlish ideals were to soil his son’s mind! Snake didn’t see the big deal. He did what he wanted now. But motherly affection wasn’t what he intended from the brood he now approached.

“Well…” he began in an easy drawl, an arrogant smirk tainting his features. “If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes.” His voice a soft purr. Flattery was always his first appeal when approaching a mare. Of course he rarely meant a word he said, they were merely empty compliments uttered to win over the brood’s favor. “Mind if I join you, princess?” He asked, though it was less of a question and more of a statement. Whether she wanted him here or not he planned on sticking around. “Training for war can be a taxing practice. But don’t worry, we won’t let the Olde horses steal you away.” His tone was reassuring, and a cold grin took the place of his smirk. “I’m Snake by the way, in case you weren’t aware.” He added, his voice as silken as spider thread.