He did not know why he had decided to follow her scent, but here he stood, in the setting sun, watching the beautiful silver filly. Reds, pinks, oranges, yellows, and purples draped and mixed on her body, dancing in all her elegant beauty as she looked to the sky. The roan boy stood silently, his scent hidden in his downwind position, his bondmate curled on his croup, asleep. When they had last met in the Threshold the fiery stallion had offended the emerald eyed girl greatly, seeming to take her own ivory horn and piercing her breast, digging into the crimson muscle that kept her alive. He did not feel regret or guilt for telling the girl the truth--that the gods did not exist--but as he watched her from yards off, the guilt gently touched the back of his mind.

Argen had left the silver girl to her own troubles in the forest, for he needed to find his father and all she seemed to be in that moment was a block to his goal. The blonde-haired stag had not gotten far into the depths of Helovia, as he searched very thoroughly for the King of Thieves he had known his sperm donor to be named. The constant searching left his mind strained and his muscles tired, as well as his young companion. Solomon had been sleeping solidly for hours, falling into the lul just after the noon hour. Even at sundown the young reptile was still sleeping, his dreams randomly appearing in Argen's mind as blurred images of them running, or playing, or of the other creatures--horses and companions alike--that they had met in their travels and Solomon's short life.

Argen sighed gently, blinking a moment to take his eyes off Aylin and think. He wanted to turn away, to continue his searching, but something about her presence pulled him in like a magnet. The boy's rich amber eyes narrowed as he gritted his teeth and pinned his ears, frustration clouding his mind. Snorting, this time loudly, he broke the silence and strode forward. "Waiting for your gods to appear?" Argen mocked, his voice a rumble like far off thunder grappling the clouds. Closing the distance and approaching on the green eyed beauty's right, Argen lifted a brow at her before tipping his large head up towards the sky. "I don't understand you."

It was true. From all the female company that the young man had kept--and deeply enjoyed--something was different about this one. Perhaps it was her religious standing, perhaps not. She was beautiful, yes, but not any more alluring than mares he had seen or even bedded before. This created foggy confusion in his mind, sparking flames of frustration as he looked at the rising moon.