One for the Gentleman (Cate)

Armand's territory was much more livable in the autumn months.

He always expected the most newcomers in the spring and fall, as the conditions in the bayou during the more extreme months often sent them packing. Icy swamps and burning bayous were not considered comfortable for non-natives. Devereaux had announced the arrivals of a few new horses months earlier, though Armand had seen few of them. At this rate, the old codger almost considered his son the king without even a proper coronation.

His memory had begun to fail him at his age. Perhaps he had met the new ones, but he simply did not remember when. It was nothing to be ashamed of, though it did make him the smallest bit self-conscious. In truth, Armand had lived his life with an arrogant and bitter disposition... No sense changing now.

The muddy king stood weak today, his hooves out of water or filth for the first time in days. Natives preferred to keep their feet and legs submerged during hotter months, for comfort's sake. Of course, they stayed as far away from the alligators as possible. It was almost difficult to move his caked legs as he started a slow walk toward the Arbrere, the shelter of swamp royals for generations. The mud was dry and it cracked as he moved. He lifted his head, his faded blue eyes gazing upon the familiar sight of his tree. Devereaux didn't understand the tree's importance... Not yet. He was too young and reckless. He was not quite ready for the throne.

OOC: Eh.