A smell permeates from within a borders, familiar but different, distinct from the others for it is marked by the myriad stench of the wilderness and not the crisp, cold pines of her mountain. She turns her face towards the entrance, the silhouette of the sentinel a marker easily denoting the slight clearing even though she does not need it; this place is the top of her knee, known and familiar.

It’s why the smell is so intriguing, sending the slightly chubby Lady (who had yet to burn off her baby baring fat) and child out towards the gate. For once, she didn’t have to beckon for him to follow, the boy growing accustomed to being toted about by his mother like some glorified living handbag flaunted to all kinds of people he didn’t know and wasn’t sure he cared to yet.

None of these decisions were his own. And so when they cleared the top of the hill and his golden eyes fell upon a young lady who was dark like he was with two horns rising from her brow, he’s quite pleased with today’s meet and greet. He hasn’t met the other foals in the herd yet, and this one, aside from moon-eyes and his Thistle Sister, was the youngest they had met. Quite excited, an added bounce makes its way into his step as they close the last bit of distance between them, young eyes peering up at his mother to see her reaction to the girl at their door.

His mother is looking at the sentinel, who has done nothing to the girl, and then, finally, to the damsel herself, and Rikyn finds a faint sense of recognition cross his dam’s tricky mask before she is all smiles and regal moonlight halting just before the returning daughter.

They’d caught her words as they approached, the boy wondering who she belonged to if she was all alone and they were not here to bring her in instead of mother.

"Rhiannon?" she guesses, sweetly framed in her white smile and tilting crown as she seems to search the horizon behind the young mare, "You’re alone." The Lady sounds sad, wondering where the former Weaver could be if he is not with his beloved daughter, while Rikyn only wonders who mother alludes to and if they’re important. It seems she knows everyone with a horn in this damn kingdom and so it’s no surprise to him that she is aware of this Rhiannon’s family, but its also not clear that her parents or siblings are of any mention such as his father or mother were.

"But you have grown!" cheer returns to the golden wench’s features as she sweeps her eyes across the height of the girl, last remembering her standing just below her father’s shoulder and impressed with the muscle and height she as acquired since then, "It is good to know you are well. Where did life sweep you away to, if I might ask?"

[ OOC: Ahaha I have a table with these lyricsssss ~ irony. We has it. ]