The brute tilts his head to the side as a confused mutt, and she is certain now that Solace does not speak her language. The Princess allows the bitterness
to swell in her soul as she watches the Warrior observe her. He seems to be deciding if she is intelligent enough to speak English, or if she is beyond his native tongue.
She does know how to speak English, and when she does, her dry compliment receives the slightest of a smile from the draft. She assumes she has done the socially correct response then, the Earth Princess does not quite understand the mingling of a flock of birds and was never interested in politics. So she merely continues to gaze at him after she is finished speaking, whilst her tail swats at the insects that attempt to land on her heavily-built frame.
A deep chuckle resounds from the draft's throat, and Brighid perks her harks further in mild interest. More confusion bubbles inside her mind.
Did she say something amusing?

His tone, however, is good natured when he addresses her once more.
He thought this place was as any other? What was so strange of this land, that it matched not his own former?

The purpose of his journey here is spoken then, and she allows the name of this landmark to roll across her tongue as the water on a avian's feathers.
the Threshold. Newcomers came here, all of them, flowing in as the river from a great lake into this country known as Helovia.
Herds? Outcast bands? A foreign concept to the Princess who grew up inside a Kingdom where different herds were mere myth. She had ruled with a iron fist, her Mother had, and the Kingdom was united as one.
Solace pauses here, and his sky-blue orbs seem to spark with something the Princess did not catch. Was he eyeing her wings? As the thought crossed her cranium, she allowed the impressive wingspan to spread ever so slightly outwards. A breeze ruffled through her primaries, and across her secondaries. Was the land he came from lacking of her species so prominently? She returns the stare with a blank expression, expecting him to either explain the stare, or continue on discussing his homeland with her.
It may have continued for a awkward amount of time, if he had not continued the discussion he had left off.

A invitation is thrown to her hooves with ease, and she is given the impression he must do this recruitment work quite often.
The names and titles of his leaders flow through her mind, and once more, she allows them to settle thickly unto her tongue and down her throat.
Apollo and Phaedra, the Merciful and the Opulent. She refrains a deep, hardy laugh at the titles that fade off each name. The Merciful, the Opulent?
What frightening titles, the thought crosses her mind with amusement. It was so unlike what her Mother would have preferred that she finds it deeply amusing, in a dry sense of fashion.

The Earth Princess only now recognizes it is her time to speak, and she does so after a few moments, attempting to decide the quickest way to phrase what she wishes to know, in the shortest amount of words possible. The baritone of her voice rumbles once more.
"Give me a reason to accept your invitation."
The warm, earthy gaze is set upon him once more with her full, undivided attention.

His next words will decide if she chooses to follow him back to his home or not. It is best that he chooses carefully, for it is not everyday the Earth Princesses' attention is given so highly to a individual.