A scream ripped through the air suddenly, carried by the wind down the whetting stone that was the mountain peak. Knee deep in snow, Roland froze in place as the pained shriek shattered the calm like sharpened claws against a sheet of metal. The bitter gales tugged at his mane, forelock blowing over his eyes as he tensed in shock. It was cooler by the mountains even in Tallsun, and the wind that swept down from the high peaks buffeted him like a current of water. The stallion’s fur was fluffed against the cold, but a shiver wracked his body like a spark travelling down his spine as more shouting followed the blood curdling wail.

The sounds of heated dispute echoed across the shelves of rock like a rhythm of foreboding war drums, and the very noise seemed to darken the bright day. Roland turned about in search of the altercation, eyes wide and heart pounding. There were shapes moving against the cliff face, darting around each other as if engaged in a violent dance. A heavyset mare was lunging towards the smaller unicorn, horn aimed to sink into the flesh. The air was perforated by another cry as the Friesian retreated with blood on her crown and a small pup darted in, wrapping its small jaws around the roan’s hind leg. A growing look of concern appeared on the dun stallion’s face as he moved towards them, jerking into a trot. His hooves slipped clumsily over the stones littered across the cliff, fighting his way through the snow as he neared the warring group.

A steel gray stallion stood off to the side, and Roland came to a halt beside him, a sick feeling swimming in his stomach as he looked on. The pup lunged once again at the spotted mare, its youthful body wreathed in volatile flame. The blue roan’s coat was stained heavily with blood, steeped in the colour of pain and suffering. She stumbled over her limbs, hooves plunging into the snow as she uttered a cry of questioning. Another scream echoed off the rocks as the mare turned and galloped away, leaving the trio behind. The sympathetic look in Roland’s eyes melted away into a cold gaze as he turned his head to look at the stallion beside him, casting a wary glance at the pup standing at his heels.

“What was that about?” He questioned carefully, expression schooled into a look of indifference. His voice did not betray his shaken resolve, but there was a look of confusion in his bright, sapphire eyes. He hadn’t been part of the Basin long enough to know of their ways, and as of yet the direct knowledge that they were a racist herd had not made its way to his ears though the seed of suspicion had been planted in his chest. He could only guess at what the roan mare had done to endure such a beating, for she had a horn crowning her head just like the rest of them. As a witness to the brutal attack, he could have done nothing to stop it. There had been mention of their leader’s name carried to him by the wind as he approached, and if she was going to be summoned to look upon the grim scene, clearly she would not have disapproved of their actions. Roland would pretend to be of the same mind set, even if every muscle in his body had ached to strike out at the attackers.

(Hope you don't mind that Roland popped in, though I'm not sure if this thread was closing or not?)

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"talk talk talk"

Despite his mind being caught up in a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, Roland didn’t miss the discrete eye roll that the steel gray stallion cast him. He still felt awkward and out of place amongst the herd of hardened, acclimatized unicorns, seeing himself as a sort of rose among thorns, but he had swallowed his inhibitions in order to understand the matter at hand. A slight frown creased his forehead as a strong gale pulled at his mane and howled through every crevice in the mountain side, but he held his tongue. Self preservation was always at the forefront of his mind and he’d hate to get on the wrong side of the two standing before him, especially when a hellhound stood at their feet. He eyed it with guarded curiousity, having seen very few in his life.

As the clattering of rocks sounded from behind him Roland turned to face the ascending slope of the mountain, eyes coming to rest on the pale spotted form of Mauja. The last time they had met had been by the hot springs, when the Frostheart and others had welcomed him into their ranks as a Phantom. Though he hadn’t exactly been kind to begin with, they had parted on better terms and Roland did not think poorly of the stallion. The amount of respect he’d gained for Mauja meant he was a very welcome face in a situation the dun didn’t quite feel at ease in. He did not smile or even call out in greeting, but simply bowed his head a fraction in acknowledgement.

Mauja’s voice was icy and threatening, echoing off the stone walls as he approached with snow rippling around his hooves. Anger seemed to pour from him in waves as he neared, frosty gaze fixed on the pale stallion one could only assume was Zar’roc. Roland retreated a step, mindful of his footing as he maneuvered backwards over the steep slope. He wanted no part in this argument and already regretted his decision to investigate; clearly this wasn’t something he should become tangled in. Nervously his eyes tracked the dark drops of blood that pockmarked the snow, leaving a crimson trail in the wake of the fleeing mare. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as Roland drew his gaze from the red ground and eyed the trio before him.

He found himself holding back a grimace at Zar’roc’s words, pulse quickening in his chest as he fought down frustration and repulsion. What exactly was going on here? He had lived alongside the Pegasi once, grown close enough to call them kin, and had never once thought poorly of them because of their lack of wings. Blinking slowly, he ignored the bitter taste in his mouth and filled his lungs with cool mountain air. A shadow seemed to have been cast over the sun itself, and despite its presence above them in the sky Roland felt no warmth upon his skin. “Perhaps a wiser move would have been to take the mare to Psyche? She’s no good to us now that she’s run away,” he ventured cautiously, knowing he had no real authority to make suggestions in this situation; but he threw caution to the wind and did so anyways, biting back every other comment he would have wished to add in.

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"talk talk talk"