Could you believe it? I felt more like an outcast than ever before and these mares were but fools if they believed me ignorant to their plans. I didn’t have to study astrology to read the signs or the gentle curve of their smiles… I’d been through it all before. I found it almost humorous that they assumed me so blind, as if a man of beauty might lack the smarts to survive. Little did they know that I had come from a woman more conniving than the two of them put together- a real harlot of the felonious trade. When I was but a boy, I adored my own mother, and rightfully so. She was my protector and my constant companion, but that did not make her righteous or just. She had been a swindling little mix, my mother, a real clever little lass. However, her age and her nature made her talent more accessible than these fools.

I didn’t need to read body language to know how Cherokee felt about ‘ole bitter-it was all in the conversation and the way she spoke of ole bitter’s group. For someone of such soft nature, I didn’t expect for her to accept Colt as easily as she did… unless there was something more that I was unaware of. Her praise was also something to be wary of, given that I’d seen my mother do much the same in my past. However, her tactics were a bit more elusive. Bless her soul, she would add a little fire to her ice and at least she made it believable. Besides, who in their right mind would be compelled to agree with someone who hired their band to herds unknown? Cherokee had no idea what she was facing nor did she want to know, apparently. What kind of herds would be interested in Colt’s little assembly? Or did that matter to the “golden girl”?

I listened to the foreign mare as best as my growing anger would allow before I finally grew tired of the banter. Let Colt have her (which I found humorous because she was named after a male foal after all). I could give a shit less what happened to the two of them, but of course, don’t say I didn’t try. I just didn’t need the baggage on my way to the Throat- I had much better arrangements waiting for me there… You could imagine that I would see Colt’s little band turned from their borders as well. What would her mission become when word spread of my encounter or if my intelligence sealed her from any opportunities with allied herds? I would see her destroyed if only for being a rude little bitch. I was sick and tired of humoring others when I had so much more to offer than simple entertainment.

I nodded and smiled at Cherokee’s attempt to absolve me in my pursuit of the Throat, though it still seemed quite insincere to me. Like my mother, I would see her forgotten. I was not some animated tool to be used and dropped… surely she would understand my motives at some point or another, though I doubted it. “Yes, it is appealing. A whimsical hybrid mare told me of its allure and I’ve contemplated it ever since. I find that the hierarchy of a herd is more appealing than relying on the insecurity of remaining an outcast like her,” I stated evenly. Of course the best part was yet to come.

Again the little roan found only more hurtful words to keep me from equality and I only smiled at her in return. I was not a man easily thrown from task… and I was admittedly driven toward the chore of swearing myself to the allegiance of the Dragon’s Throat. These mares were only a detour and one quickly surpassed. I was almost glad when Cherokee stated that she needed only a moment to mull over the information Colt and I had supplied. However, a moment was all that it took for me to abandon such a futile endeavor.

It was almost too simple to turn heel and walk away. What a waste of breath and time- no wonder the natives abhorred the Threshold.

Note taken.