Duncan knew he had done Cyrille wrong, and though he had returned to her and had been faithful to her ever since he still felt as though he had to make amends for his wrong doings. Unfortunately, he wasn't one to know about how to do so. He wasn't a lady's man. He didn't know how to woo a mare, how to make her feel as though she was the only one for him, that he'd do anything for her, anything to make her happy.
This is where Harlequin came in. As a foal, his daughter had often come to him for advice, and now Duncan had done the same to her. Who would know that which would make a mare happy more than a mare after all. Her suggestions seemed as though they would be pointless; what good would giving Cyrille a flower be after all? But instead of putting aside all her ideas and inputs Duncan had planned something derived from all of them.
As the sun begain to lower in the distance, sinking slowly towards the horizon, Duncan set out from his two leggers teepee, a bouquet of wildflowers grasped in his jaws, to find Cyrille.
