Tembovu’s eyes shift from the white queen to the bay stallion. Achaius’s words balances the line between poetry, casual observance, and deep contemplation. So the elephant studied the man closely— no longer distracted by sleep or duty to entertain the guest. His gaze found quiet, introspective grey eyes full of thoughts, of uncertainty and decisions. Eyes of dissimilitude, of uniformity. Of black, of white— of grey.

He blinks, sweeping away these introspections with his black eyelids. A quiet snort escaped him at Mauja’s dramatic whisper. Hide the elephant? In the fog? The only hiding the elephant could accomplish would be with their Moon Goddess’s personal blessing— and Tembovu highly doubted she would care so much. Given her mischievous and historically wicked nature, he was relatively certain he didn’t want her to care so much.

“Definitely always surprises, here,” he agreed on a low murmur beside his Queen. A slight grin crossed over his muzzle as he thought of the surprise of Rexanna on the beach. That had been such good (great) surprise.

He easily, contentedly accepted the slight lean of the Frozen Light against his shoulder unconsciously— though it brought his mind away from the beach to to the cliffs. Ears turn towards Mauja as he answers his own question. He is quite loquacious on the matter.

Though his many words provide much enlightenment to the elephant—and he is glad for it. So Torleik was not his choice of co-lead? The large stallion shifts his weight uncertainly, rough hide rubbing against the smooth, spotted one. For some, unknown reason (most likely because of his familiarity with him), Tembovu inherently trusted his dotted leader. These are how seeds of doubt are planted— he recognized them well, for he had once made it his purpose to plant them.

Squashing these errant thoughts, these weeds of doubt, he continued to listen. His head tilted ever so slightly at how contrasted the words were with their tone. They spoke of an ugly truth in a pleasant, conversational tone. His neck bent, turning to study the glacier as he spoke. Curiosity flashed through him. What made his queen speak in such a way? For the first time since entering Helovia, he felt an interest in the past. Coming here had always been about the future, about leaving behind his vengeance and past.

But now…

He angles his head and eyes towards Achauis, blue eyes studying and searching for a response to the small speech of the lead. The silence they fall into is oppressing, for some odd reason. At least the elephant finds it that way. “Acceptance is a ideal I can get behind,” he rumbles, bobbing his giant head slightly in affirmation of his words. “I can’t speak to religion or higher ordered doctrines,” a slight frown creased his masked brown, for those principles often are stepping stones to greed and corruption, “but acceptance seems acceptable to me.” He grins as his own corny, horrible joke— though at least he felt he had eased his own seriousness.