The woods had been relatively quiet, up until the weather broke - then the songbirds took over. Pierce had been here ever since he left his home, and he'd told himself that he was going to go as far as he possibly could, away from the mountains. You can see where he ended up.

Quiet, and solitary, yes. It seemed as though whatever herd had been here before, was now long gone. Pierce wasn't too sure as to why; even with the snow having coated the land, there was still plenty of food, and water to drink. Perhaps they all just found something better than what was here. But what was here, well it wasn't so bad. Even though he was on his own, even though it wasn't home. Although . . . who was to say it couldn't be? He had spent an entire winter in this place, could almost name every tree, had successfully navigated through the caves at least a few times, and he swore he could hear the lake calling his name each morning. Despite being lonely, it was much more of a home to him at this point than the Moraine Mountains had ever been. He didn't want to be too hopeful, but he considered the idea that he could really make this place his own.

And on a particularly warm spring morning, that was exactly what he did.

The stallion wove through the trees, eager to cover as much ground as he could. He had a long day ahead of him, and needed to be sure to touch every stretch of land in the forest that he could. Marking off his territory, it would be known that he now owned this place - and while others be welcome, remember to tread carefully, and not to cross the new King of the Smokey Forest.