Diablo stood on top of a small rise, surveying his herd below. The paint stud lifted his head to the wind and let out a loud whinny, to warn off other studs and attract mares.
Winona, the lead mare, raised her fine palomino head when she heard her stallion's whinny. A tiny, newborn colt nursed...
Flowers squealed at the sudden movement. She stomped her hoof and whinnied, calling her filly back.
She still had a long way to go, in the means of motherhood.
Flowers scowled in his direction. She had a fight-or-flight instinct, and when the filly had nursed, it had told the young dam that flight was the best response. Flowers lovingly blew into the filly's nostrils, careful not to scare her. She had done enough of that already.