There were footsteps interrupting the relative muteness of the forest. A white form approached, pale, slender, and more unlike Medusa than anyone Treand had set eyes on; Medusa was dark, magnificent, cold, and this mare was pale, antlered, and gorgeous. Treand turned his obsidian head slowly, nares flaring, crimson eyes darkening. A mare, he thought, a petty mare. The bleak, malevolent stallion cared little for such creatures, no matter their charm or feminine wiles. Only one mare had he truly held affection for- Medusa, the ebony Friesian who so carefully raised him, fondling over him and teaching him how to use his thick, broad build to fight, to batter down his enemy and gut them like herring, without fear, without love, just vile pleasure.
Treand finds it difficult to contain a roll of his blood-red eyes, and whisks his ebony tail across his flanks, shifting on the ground impatiently. He tosses his head as the mare comes closer, feeling she hardly qualifies as unicorn with the damn antlers on her brow. At the very least, she is a little better than pegasus air-heads or damn horses. Deciding to leave her be, the stoutly-built stallion listens to her with a barely controlled temper. Yes, she may be a unicorn, but she's a damn strange one at that and hardly deserves his respect. It doesn't help that she's a mare.
"A herd of unicorns, you say?" Treand grunts, eyeing her with barely disguised contempt. At least he could find a steady old stallion, hopefully, in this home she talked about. The slightly fuzzy stallion thrust his head forward, the line of his jaw hard, eyes cold, and growled in his typical bad temper- "Fine, Arah. Lead on. Treand, by the way, father of Delinne and Delium. You seen them?" The broad-chested stallion began moving, hardly controlling the sudden urge to spear her. Who knew why? He is not a kind horse, not even a horse who liked his daughter much beyond using her, and with his age his temper would only grow shorter.
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