Spitfire narrowed his eyes, letting out a snort as the stallion darted off. Suddenly, his attention was turned towards the pounding of many hooves. Trotting in front of his tiny herd, he held his head high, flaring his nostrils as the other herd stopped and what appeared to be the lead mare spoke. Then, a white mare stepped forward. There was something vaguely familiar about her that he couldn't quiet recall, then it hit him. Bailey!? The lead mare spoke, her tone automatically annoying the pinto, but nevertheless, he stepped forward one pace. "My name's Spitfire, and- This is my herd. I could ask you the same question." He nickered, narrowing his eyes at the mare.