Gaucho's black ears swiveled at the sound of hooves upon stone. He had been too busy scanning the perimeter to notice the creature now moving out of the shadows. Was this the ambush he had been waiting for? No... Any assassin would know better than to clatter so obviously upon the granite. They were either already here, or had indeed followed him but were not afraid to let their presence be known. Either way, Gaucho felt encouraged by this. If whatever plot was afoot was to end in battle, he was glad that his would-be assassin entered honestly and without cowardice. He had had enough deception, without finding more lurking in the shadows.
The WildFire's stormy gaze sought out the cause of the sound, easily spying the lithe golden shape of the unicorn, as he moved closer. At once, Gaucho doubted his earlier assumption that this was an ambush. The golden pelt was nearly free of blemishes - both dirt as well as scarring. And while those horns appeared as though they could inflict damage, they didn't appear to have done so, at least not recently. Turning his blue-striped chest to square off against the shorter stallion, Gaucho's bone-pierced snout wrinkled as he grunted. Flexing his wings slightly - casting patterns of light and shadow on the ground before him - he lowered them gently to his flanks, but did not fold them there. Instead, they hung loosely, as if merely to increase his perceived size.
The pair seemed to be comically opposite. Gaucho, with his muscular and massive painted body and scarred pelt - marked naturally in black, and artificially in crimson, gold, and blue, stood in stark comparison to the fine-lined golden figure approaching. Thranduil appeared like a prince, whilst Gaucho appeared more as a barbarian. Intently, Mara watched the horned created approaching, hissing softly in Gaucho's antlers.
Le suilon. Even Mara, normally so helpful with translation, did not understand the meaning. Probably hellloooooo She mentally hissed. Thranduil, at your service. The golden creature continued, inflicting a frown of confusion and frustration from Gaucho. Always have such hard names.. Gaucho though with a grunt, lashing his tail against his barred hocks. Who always has hard names? a little voice in the back of his mind seemed to chime. Who is they? The complexity of the unicorn's name, in tandem with the lingering doubt in his mind, caused the dun to shake his head in frustration, rattling Mara about.
"Th-ran-dool" Gaucho attempted, sounding the name out crudely. The WildFire's voice was rich and deep, though the way his tongue awkwardly wrapped itself around the syllables betrayed his primitive abilities when it came to communicating. Luckily he had not lost what small progress he had made from the last time he was in Helovia, but it was clear that this was not his native tongue. "Not ill." He grunted in response. "And not bird either." His words were broken and poorly put together, but it was not entirely unintelligible. It could be better of course, but without Mara's aid, Gaucho was left to select and piece together sentences on his own.
Instead of aiding her bonded, Mara instead was intently focusing upon Thranduil. He was not one they had met before...which was not uncommon of course...there were many in Helovia who Gaucho had not met and yet...not many who did not know who Gaucho was. Then again, the golden prince had not asked Gaucho's name or rank. Perhaps he did know... Or perhaps being bonded to the mind of one so clearly convinced of a conspiracy was effecting her judgement.
"I Gaucho." He offered, saying his name easily and without effort. "Not trouble. Gaucho...Liars try to trick Gaucho. It not work."
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