T
R
I
S
T
A
N

Tristan had been unaware that he and Kasai were no longer alone, so focused as he was in their game of hide-and-seek, but the tigress had immediately spotted the youngling that had scuttled from the brush and sparse vegetation behind them. The tip of the black and white tigress' tail flicked, icy-blue orbs narrowed in brief judgement. Kasai had grown quite protective of Romani and Destrier's son, their little Prince, just as she knew Suli and Merlin had, and so she took any stranger as a potential threat... But as the filly bravely ventured closer, it became quite apparent that she meant Tristan no harm.

The said colt's head turned, spotting the filly with a curious blink. When did she get there? She was a splotched thing, the color of earth and clouds with golden palomino accents. Grey eyes stared curiously into vivid turquoise, and Tristan was powerless to stop the smile that lit up his face, the simple action of smiling pulling at his left eye uncomfortably.

"Hi!" The exclamation came quickly and excitedly to the sooty buckskin's lips, but his expression drooped as the little filly refrained from responding. "My name's Tristan! This is Kasai. Who're you?" The little Prince's head tilted, incredibly curious, but before he could speak anymore on the matter, the splotchy girl moved, splaying both of her lanky front legs out in front of her and wriggling her rump and tail in the air.

Maybe she couldn't talk? Maybe her voice didn't work? Maybe it was messed up, kind've like his eye was? Blinking quickly in an attempt to rid the said orb of a terrible, irritable itch, Tristan shifted and mimicked her position, dark legs splaying outwards and a bright expression lighting up his face... Yet it grew into one of confusion as the weirdest thing that he had ever seen walked up behind the splotched female and promptly nipped her upon the rump.

What in the world was it?

Kasai remained seated in the snow, tail twitching lazily in the snow, her icy-blue orbs looking from the paint filly to the llama companion. Perhaps he was a companion to one of the youngling's parents? It seemed that they, as companions, made the most spectacular of babysitters. Judging by this llama's lackluster expression, he must have felt the same.

Tristan, however, quickly forgot about his uncertainty regarding the thing and instead looked back to the splotched filly, and abruptly he reared up, tiny hooves flailing in the air as he pawed at her. "It's okay, I'll talk for the both of us! I wish I knew your name, though..." Oh well. "Let's play!" The buckskin then darted off to begin a game of chase, slipping occasionally in the snow and laughter bubbling up from his throat.