Despite the fact that Roland had fought in a war before, he had never found himself in the situation where he’d needed to be saved. There had been some close calls; times when he’d barely escaped unscathed, but for the most part he had dealt his blows under the cover of a talented guise and never been found out. Most of his work had been done away from the battlefield, wielding words as weapons rather than a sword and shield. Now, while he wasn’t sure if the two stallions standing before him would kill him, he didn’t doubt that they would try, if he didn’t tread carefully.

Before he could be impaled upon a frozen horn or chased from the Basin’s lands- for Roland always anticipated the worst- he heard the cry of his name from soothing chords, and a vaguely familiar face appeared amidst the ice and snow. Never in his life had anyone had better timing. The cornered stallion felt a genuine smile creep onto his features as he met Lena’s auburn gaze through the curtain of steam, the tension in his muscles relaxing at the welcoming tones of her voice. He hoped that her presence would lessen the hostility that ran tangible through the frosted air, for no claim of his own that his intentions were true would be as meaningful as those from a trusted comrade.

It was Lena who had first sparked his interest in the Basin, and she was the root of the reason that he had ventured north to join them after much contemplation. After spending some time traversing the wilds of Helovia, he had determined that there was a brighter future waiting for him in a herd, amongst his own kind. Naturally he recalled their first meeting, and though her mention of snow and ice had at first discouraged him, he hoped he would grow used to it in time. “Lena, it’s nice to see you too,” he greeted her with a dip of his head, meeting the Frostheart’s gaze as he answered the mare’s question for him. Roland nodded in confirmation, limbs beginning to feel stiff as the cool air brushed against his wet skin.

The query the white stallion posed then took him by surprise, for it had been a question he had pondered over himself. He had survived on his own for long enough; why bring an end to his nomadic lifestyle now? In the end it hadn’t been difficult for him to discover the reason. There was no direction, no order, no flow to his life when he was alone. The road before him was empty and destitute, and there was no purpose he could tie his name to, no cause he could stand behind. He had once felt that and suddenly he wanted it again. “I’ve gone far too long without a direction in my life, and I’d like to put some use to the talents that I have,” he explained, finding himself hunting for the right words to get his point across; but he did not have to feign honesty. “You wouldn’t happen to have a place for an experienced con man? ” His eyes met Mauja’s with a level gaze, disguising the uneasiness he still felt beneath.

They would know now that he was an actor, dabbling in deceit, spinning lies with words of gold; yet to fight his way through difficult situations he could be naïve and innocent, an angel in a harmless world. If they wished it of him he could be a spy, a manipulator, a shadow. He could become the kindest man or the cruelest warrior, slipping into the cadences and vernacular that put his target most at ease. If he was to join their ranks it seemed proper that he should bestow his trust in them, though divulging his occupation was never an easy thing; for shadows didn’t enjoy having light cast upon them.

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"talk talk talk"