A warm breeze ruffled the mane of a lone stallion as he gazed out over the still lake. The clear waters barely moved among the playful winds and, as usual, their dark depths made the drake marvel and wonder. How could such a thing be so very still, even when the winds blew?
Lowering his head he drank almost reverently from the Lake of Bright Moon. This was the very spot he had stood when he first discovered the lake and it would be the place he forever remembered. To him it was now a place of reverence and peace, maybe even some lesser form of worship, for never in his short life had he seen such a place and never again would he count on it outside these lands.

Breathing the sweet air, clean of the human polution he had grown used to over the years, Argentine once more thanked whatever forces had granted him his luck. At the end of the world, the portals had opened and granted him passage into Terra Celestia, which was more than he could have hoped for. Before that chiming doorway opened into this paradise, the best he could have thought up was a cozy stall and a clean pasture in a stud farm after his jumping career was over; now he had open plains, forests, wide blue skies, clear air and Mizuumi no Kagetsu. What more could he want?
The dappled grey stallion sighed. There was, of course, one thing he wanted even above the Lake. He was lonely; after almost three weeks in Terra Celestia he still had no company in his vast land. There were no companions for the young stallion no matter how hard he looked; it was getting almost desperate for him.

His head darted up in a flash. A scent drifted toward him from across the plains and it resonated throughout his being. His eyes, bright by normal standards, brightened further and he picked up a swift canter toward the source of the scent.
With all due speed he raced to the equine now in his homeland, hoping beyond hope that he might gain a companion in the newcomer, be they stallion or mare.
Suddenly a realization crossed his mind: Running as he was he would probably startle the other into flight. That would never do. He slowed to a slower gait, smoothly making the transition and doing his utmost to hold back his eager frame. With all his soul he wanted to run to the other horse's side but with all his mind he knew he must do the opposite.

After what seemed a millenia the young mare came into view. Possibly a little younger than Argentine himself, she came close also to his coat, with a splatter of freckles across her light-but-sturdy build and twin bloodmarks on her shoulders. She was a beautiful sight to his lonely eyes.
His facade flickered into a light frown. Was she crying? Her fine head was lowered to the earth and the crystal tears ran in silver streams down from her amber-gold eyes to her small nares....His heart melted for her and he came to his second realization of the day.
I want to protect her, he thought. I don't know who, or what, hurt her but I want to keep it from ever happening again. Whatever the odds, I want to fight for her and maybe even die for her.

Approaching with caution lest she be wary of strangers, as most would be, Argentine's proud, strong voice, tempered by concern to lower volume, resonated through the airwaves.
What troubles Milady this day? He dared to come a step or two closer and lowered his head to her level. Such sadness in your eyes and heart. What fate or soul has done you wrong?