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"Unfortunately, yes. A stupid featherbrain fought me in the woods."
Shuler’s slender, golden ears flick forward atop his head in mild curiosity as his suspicions of a fight were confirmed by the mares very own words. He can’t help but be amused by the aggravation in her voice, that quick, biting temper that rears its head despite the fact that she is grievously injured. The golden stallion shifts his hooves against the soft spring soil thoughtfully, his obsidian silk tail waving leisurely against his hocks and haunches as he assesses the scarred mare before him. He notices the other pair approach the scene then, the appaloosa mare and her child otherwise hidden by the darkness. The concern in the new stranger's voice is apparent, as is the horror in her child’s eyes as she peers from behind her mother at the gruesome remnants of violence that linger in the injuries of the bay mare.
“My name is Shuler,” He replies quietly, introducing himself to both ladies at once. “It would be best, perhaps, to find you a healer. There are two that are capable of such here in our lovely Basin, the good Doctor D’Artagnan, and the fair lady and ambassador, Lena.”
Shuler watches as the injured mare reassures the child, and he cannot find the same empathy in his own heart as he glances again at the young creature, frail and fragile in comparison to the larger equines that surround it, and significantly more innocent. Children were foreign objects to him, his own childhood had been lack luster and deficient, his own parents are but a faint memory now in the back of his head, most of his young life spent in the company of his mentor- the only father figure he had ever known. He continues to stand amongst the mares and small foal in what appears to be a comfortable silence, eyes appeasing and half smile present, but beneath the perfectly practiced façade a discontentment rests in the pit of Shuler’s chest, and threatens to chase him away.
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