Although Gaucho's mind would not admit it, his heart knew it to be true: Cera was no longer a child. If it wasn't obvious by how Cera had filled out physically, how scars and muscle now lined a frame that was once small and frail, it was obvious in his words. He was not a wounded child, even though part of him might feel that way. He was charismatic and forgiving, he was understanding and driven by a rationality that seemed to override his emotions.

As Cera's muzzle gently brushed against his own, the Wildfire exhaled softly, raising his gaze to the stallion. He was no longer a child, and certainly no longer one he could think of as his own. He was a gaezo, an okeo. And as Cera spoke of Midas, the dun realized that perhaps he was closer to Cera than he ever had been to his painted step-father (although Gaucho did mentally note that he ought to go and see Midas sooner rather than later). Gaucho didn't know about those who had left Cera - certainly Midas leaving the Throat hadn't even been considered as a reason for Cera's distress - but loyalty was something Gaucho understood. It went deeper than having those around you simply go some where else. It was about unspoken promises to always stay, to always be near if needed. Those were the ones broken - and they didn't always take distance to break.

Gaucho listened patiently, understanding the simplicity of Cera's words and the wall of weight and meaning behind them. There were moments were more words would not help to convey an idea or feeling - if it was one that you didn't understand in its most simple expression, it was one you wouldn't understand at all. But Gaucho did.

"Cera strong." Gaucho commented finally, his voice deep and smooth. He implicitly knew somehow, or perhaps just naively believed, that hardened or not, Cera would always make the right choices. He might think himself unyielding, but he would yield when necessary. He would be hard when necessary too. He would be Cera, and the Wildfire knew that that would always be right.

As Cera knelt, Gaucho raised his flaming wings to cast a warm ambient light upon the golden knight. Mara slithered down Gaucho's antlers, to his shoulder, leg, and finally to the sands where she moved towards Cera's muzzle, raising her pale body up to rub against his velvety nose affectionately. She had missed him as well.

"Gaucho visit Sun God ... " He began, then paused.

The other crafter was needed.

Turning his head away so that he would not be yelling into Cera's ear, Gaucho called loudly: "BUUUUUUUUUUUUCE"