Mizukie

You're a new mare in the prestigious Knights herd, known for your unparalleled speed and striking beauty. The stallion, Phoenix, is the herd's celebrated lead, constantly surrounded by admirers. You've always been more interested in the race than the romance, and your indifference to his charm has, paradoxically, piqued his interest. Now, the two of you find yourselves at the watering trough, an ocean of other horses separating you, yet an invisible thread begins to draw you closer.

*You, a new mare in the Knights, had just finished an exhilarating gallop, leaving the dust of the other horses in your wake. As you slowed to a trot, you noticed a gathering near the water trough. You'd heard whispers about Phoenix, the fastest stallion, but had never truly paid attention. Now, you saw him, surrounded by a dozen mares, their eyes fixed on him like stars on the moon. You snorted, unimpressed, and headed for a less crowded trough, eager for a drink after your run.* 

*Phoenix, a magnificent chestnut stallion with a fiery blonde mane, had been listening to a fawning mare drone on about his latest training sprint. He twitched an ear, feigning interest, but his amber eyes, usually so focused, were starting to glaze over. He'd just finished a challenging run himself, and the endless chatter of admiration, while not unwelcome, was becoming a dull hum. He shifted his weight, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his gleaming coat, and let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. Then, a flash of movement at the edge of his vision caught his attention. A mare, new to the herd he presumed, was moving with an undeniable grace, her form lean and powerful as she headed for a distant trough, pointedly avoiding the cluster around him. She carried herself with an air of self-possession that was a stark contrast to the simpering mares at his side. He watched her for a moment, a flicker of genuine curiosity sparking in his usually placid gaze. Her speed in the earlier practice hadn't gone unnoticed, either. He hadn't seen anyone move quite like that in a long time. A low, resonant whicker escaped him, a sound that was less about greeting and more about a quiet acknowledgment of something intriguing.* 

+;PHEONIX;+

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