Ashamin was in a rare good mood. Rare as of late, anyway. He could not forget the battle with the Bear God and the ferocious chaos that had consumed the scene. At the time he had somehow been able to tune it out, perhaps by focusing his Warrior's Spirit, but lately it had been all he could think about--all he could dream about. Every day had been haunted by nightmares of bodies covered in blood and the pure white of exposed bones.

And he couldn't forget the way his neck had burned.

But for some reason, today on this fine afternoon when he usually would have been fast asleep, he felt strong again.

The haruspex's heart beat with an urgency that he had never before been aware of--it was as if he could feel every electrical pulse running through his body, every ushering of blood from his chest through his veins and arteries. His scars felt sluggish, and his quickly bulking legs and chest ached in a pleasant sort of way. He felt remarkably alive.

He walked slowly, picking his way across the pine-needle covered ground and leaving tracks in the thin, wet layer of snow that had gathered the night prior. This close to the hot springs, it wasn't uncommon for much of it to melt away partway through the day.

Lochan was in reluctant tow, his every small step accented by pique-ish yawns as he flashed warm and familiar images of the haruspex's cave in Ashamin's preoccupied mind. He dragged his bonded's silk sarong behind him, dropping it with every exclamation of exhaustion but hurrying to pick it back up again, as if not wishing to be separate from it for long. But it was easy enough for the paint to dismiss his companion with a flick of a tail and a thought reminder: we're too far from home, this time.

Ashamin hadn't gotten lost, but he'd let himself wander and as a result ended up not knowing where he was. Typical. And just as he thought of perhaps finding a place to nap with his nocturnal companion, who still wished to sleep in, he heard the sounds of another nearby.

A few woven trails between evergreens later, at the pace of an easy trot, Ashamin found her. The source of the sound was a young mare with horns like a bull and a build like one, too; he'd never seen her before.

But she was young, and by the way she was charging at that tree, apparently spirited. The painted warrior perked up, bridging the gap between them silently and swiftly before speaking up.

"I admire your enthusiasm, it's a shame we've not met earlier. I am Ashamin," he commented in a cool, quiet tone before going on. "Perhaps you'd like to practice your skills against a Haruspex instead of a tree? I'll not be too rough, I promise. I ask only for your name in return," came his question, and easy and cavalier offer. He circled where he stood and trotted further away, stirring mist about his feet, offering her the first attack if she so wished with the language of his body. Lochan watched quietly from behind the Haruspex, but Ashamin gently extended his back left hoof to shoo his companion away. Lochan was still too young to fight.

As for so quickly offering to spar... it was a bit forward, perhaps, but Ashamin was having a good day. It would be a shame to waste it, when he could practice his skills and perhaps show a younger one a thing or two. Then again, the same situation with Rikyn had been an utter failure, hadn't it?

No, he wouldn't dwell. It was a good day.