As they strolled and conversed, Fiore found he liked this kind of interaction the most. The gentle words passed between two strangers who were slowly becoming more acquainted with one another was almost a great adventure in itself. There was a story behind each face, each well travelled hoof and each nasty looking scar. Behind the pretty items, the wild magic and the loyal companion. A story came with all of it, surely! It was this that Fiore enjoyed most about being in a new herd. There would come a time when faces would become old friends, old teachers or even students. These were things the young Sergeant had never felt before and he cherished each little memory, for although they may be trivial to some, Fiore found they warmed his heart in ways he had never experienced. It was the first time he'd walked into another land and not felt the itch in his bones to travel once again. He had found a contentment he thought he never could.

New feelings aside, he glanced at the chestnut and white splashed hide of Cheveyo and smiled at her words. Indeed, Fiore had been given the ultimate welcome into the world of battle in this land, but at least he could walk into any spar knowing he'd seen worse. Unless Cheveyo hid an arsenal of weapons somewhere in her pretty, pale hair and if that was the case, he would regret these next words. "I may have to take you up on that." He responded lightly with the full intent of looking her up later for a dual on the cliffs edge.

Fiore listened next with great interest as Cheveyo dismissed his worries that perhaps she would be sad at the loss of her former home. In fact, she seemed practically happy that the event had led her to the borders of the Worlds Edge. He smiled brightly at her as he felt relief wash over his body. He had met one or two horses through out his lifetime who had lost a home and still he remembers their faces of distraught agony. In a sense, he too had lost his home, but much like Cheveyo, he cared more that it had led him here. Fortune comes in the strangest ways. "I'm glad! What is the Foothills like now?" he asked curiously and glad she had moved on. There was nothing worse than a burdened heart.

After that the attention was back on himself and Fiore had happily informed his new painted friend on a short version of his backstory. It wasn't much of a story really, more of an event that had happened many years ago, his life from then on had been rather sporadic and boring. Perhaps that was why his personality was like wildfire, to compensate for his rather sedate life so far. He was a simple horse who was living a simple life, until now it seemed. He was a little nervous with the focus on him, there wasn't much he could do in the ways of entertainment for Cheveyo, he had only old wives tales and pasture stories. She had paused once he had finished and Fiore politely waited her response to his dreary short tale and when she finally did speak, he smiled and nodded in agreement. "I like to think so too" he sighed and thought back to the young lad he had been "I cared little for that land. Though I regretted the loss of friends, it was the first time I'd ever felt free and so I kept running." It sounded selfish on his tongue, but he couldn't deny the truth. The wind that day had spurred him on from behind.

"It was probably quite cowardly of me."

@[Cheveyo]

Maybe you were the ocean
and I was just a stone