Someone is passing by, which has happened numerous times today since he’s situated himself here to study the music naturally provided by the Earth, but never so close or with a scent that he recognized from more than herd meetings. It was odd, but the scent of the mare immediately brought to mind her face; an ear tilts back in wonder at the rising picture of a painted mare with emblems marked across her body, by the name of Cheveyo – a woman he had personally seen into her new life among his friends.

She, like him, had a history she didn’t want to talk about all that much, and he had his suspicions as he did with anyone who obviously held secrets that it involved a skeleton or two – mostly because his own secrets were clandestine because they were dark and would turn those who he wanted to love him away. The thought that Resplendence, Ranjiri, or any other of his friends would turn their backs to him was a sad one, one that quickly stirs him to life as the native mare struts past.

Unlike his previous object of his affection (for he surely thinks she is pretty and intriguing in all her mystery and hidden stories – who was she looking for when she had come to the Edge, anyway?), Cheveyo is a woman all her own, often as lonely as Dragomir was but seemingly as unperturbed by the notion as the young stallion on a day to day basis. His company was better met with trees and the occasional wild bird or creature that scampered past, doubt in his own capabilities and wisdom leading him to a hermetic way of being that occasionally was dappled with the unavoidable social interactions of living among the Sunshower’s chatty guild.

"Cheveyo?" he says to the flash of white and copper that passes through the trees, hoping that he isn’t wrong but managing to make his voice full and loud despite the anxiety that riddles him. He’s not entirely sure why it is he is going out of his way to talk to her, but it’s been that way with any pretty girl he took a liking to for one reason or another. That the painted mare was of the proper species to not mark his cherished things on the hit list of a certain Adalwulf was a bonus that will come to mind later, that he could love many he has met but is too afraid to a sad, sad realization that he has yet to make.

But it is fortunate, in its own ways; while lost like most men learning how to be such a thing, he has a set of guidelines by which to rule himself. A thought trails away to Kari, a boy with nothing but what little he can recall of the woman who birthed him and vanished, how chaotic the world must be to someone who had not a mentor in the world.

He really, really needed to stop thinking about Kari. Yesterday. It hurt too badly.

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