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?)

walk walk walk
"talk talk talk"