That scent, that unmistakable scent of a family member drove me forward. It seems we are such a quiet herd that any stirring about drives my hooves forward for company. So lonely I seemed, off on my own. Stirring mud and dust around the borders as I make my travels between the pretty scenery of my home. Waiting for an opportunity to prove my worth under my new rank. It seems so fitting for my being. My whole standing in what I believe and strive for. I am unsure though, the intentions of my leaders. There are three of them, not one... not two... three and they are all males. To my last knowledge though, it was Svetlana, and two males. But those words that graced my ears were that of a new chief. In place of her. I am sure of this, for Jackal was not a name I recalled in my meetings between others.

I step from between a tree and boulder, surely they had caught the smell of me and simply seen me from before hand. My neck is craned at a respectful and proud state, perfect for my breed. Moving forward with intent and sky blue eyes locked on them both, a beautiful smile placed firmly upon my lips. I look each of them over. One is a unique red dun, don't get me wrong, I've seen such before but he was dappled with some unique appaloosa marking. Perfectly fitting for such a graceful and muscular body. The thing that popped the most was white scarring, not the usual disgusting scars like that of the blacks, but these are fitting into his colors and almost seem to blend. It was only the tiny line between the color that gave away a scar. I stop before the two, placing a good amount of distance between our trio meeting.

Looking upon the black now, I notice his is a dun. Perfectly explained by the white primitive markings, but once again it was so unusual. It didn't quite seem realistic enough, perhaps that was the purpose of a unicorn. To be mythical and borderline alive. I can not judge though, that is not my place. We are all the same in soul. Some say soul and mind but they are beyond wrong. The mind of one could not simply be alike. A soul is bound to the same afterlife. A cloudless life of grey before you re-enter the world as something new, someone new. My head dips in greeting to the two as my eyes finally fix themselves to the blacks horn. White and tipped red, almost as if he had dipped the piercing bone into blood. It was sickening to my stomach, so intimidating I could almost feel my heart jumping through my chest. Vomit crawling up my throat. I quivered beneath that lovely dappled coat of mine, invisible waves of tension rolling from my side. He did not make me nervous by simply being, no offense intended, a bone head. It was the fact his bone was memory finding red.

I shuffle my pace away from his stranger smell and seem to lean towards my king more, I did not know Jackal but it was sure he was family. A bond between the members of one unit. Maybe he did not feel it but I felt comfort in him compared to a stranger. Compared to someone I knew not in intentions. No, I can't say that. I do not know either of their intentions but even with my lack of trusting, I can surely put my little amount of hope in Jackals hooves. Planting my safety in his legs. "Greetings to you both," my eyes shift to Jackal, then back to the dun "I'm Abdullah, a diplomat here." elegant tones crawled through the air. Gently creeping to the blacks white tipped ears. I hoped my greeting did not fall on deaf and bloody ears. His scars were such reminders of a, easily judged, past.

Putting my care within Jackal's presence was a weakness I was used to showing. Being alone I was stronger and a better use to be a sturdy pole with the bare minimum of intimidation. It was only when others were around that I found myself sprawling out in a relaxation I should not know. My hope and remaining kindness just pouring from a waterfall through my chest and beating from my heart. If someone else was around, someone who seemed easily trust able, I would leave my care to them. Perhaps this is far from a correct act but it seemed so useful and calming to let my nerves uncoil, to release my laid back character and the happiness or boasting of life behind my eyes. Even with this living legend's presence as a very intimidating feature, I was not pressed into action to keep him with questions and concern. His eyes were a bloody crimson that could crawl behind your smile and wickedly turn it to a frown but behind those eyes I could feel something more from him.

I do not know of his past, or how he used to be but if I did, it would conclude the lust for knowledge about all his scars. Though I do find him a handsome being, his setbacks were that of a battled hide and terrible mane. Such made him seem rugged and edged with bitter disdain. Beneath his spiraled horn was a familiar stripe. The stripe of my father. I quiver with memories. He was never a man who felt pride in such a useless daughter, I've had days close to being beat to death. I remember the day I began to limp, my right cannon so sore with hate. I forgive to easily because to this day, I never remember such a fault in him I look beyond that fault and remember him as a disappointed father. Not someone who beat me because of his dislike.

Knowing he did not mean it was the easiest thing for me to believe, though I know he knew what he was doing, I don't believe he ever meant to harm me. His loves was apparent even behind the fuming gases. Like the fumes held beneath the surface of my kings dragon. That bronze a reminder of the beautiful nature. My mind is taken from this wandering as I place my facial features in a curling smile as the companions bonded winks to me. For a moment I felt warm inside, useful and worth any trouble. His playful moment hit a spot within my aging heart. It was such a wonderful feeling. As Paladin began to speak I moved my eyes from the kings silver to his own crimson. The Valiant's head bows respectfully and I cannot help but feel flattered. He is wonderfully mannered and I find him a rather kind being beyond what his outer shell says. "Thank you, Valiant."

Pretty much a simply return of words but I couldn't quite summon anything else. I was lost in the excitement of reality, not everyone who looks evil is such. Maybe his scars were well earned and wonderfully accepted. Or maybe they were an old reminder of why he should be who he is now, I can understand that mindset. I am who I am, a forgiver because I do not want to be like the rest. Like my father and his father before him. Or perhaps the rest of the kingdom and their chaotic lives of judging and being so wound up tight with hatred and unsure visions. One of the kings voices cuts the air as he turns to venture into the Foothills further. His gesture is followed by my own. I move my cranium to Paladin, in an inviting motion of sideways cocks to push his attention to follow. Placing each of my black hooves and that one creamy colored thing off after Jackal. Perhaps my white sock was my only fault in beauty. If it wasn't for that painting I would be a pure thing. My reflection would be wonderful.