Flirtations go over his head most often.. The red stallion's mind is usually far from such things despite being what he is.. A man. He is rigid and has himself well trained to ignore such primal desires, yet, when the mare throws herself at him he can't help but raise a brow. No matter how well disciplined his mind is not even he can miss that obvious flirtation. He flicks his long tail and the dark tendrils splay over his rump briefly. Quietly he studies her with a mild disinterest.. The mare is young and he can guess near his eldest daughter's age. The realization only seems to put him off further as he takes a step back. Odette scents the new arrival and comes bounding over, yapping gleefully. No amount of time seems to kill her love of new faces. He watches the shepherd walk over and sniff the mare down curiously, her tail wagging furiously as she does. 


He eyes the mare for a moment longer, realizing just how long he's stood there like a mute. "Well," Déodat says finally, his deep vocals breaking his extended silence. He lets his bonded satisfy her curiosity before she trots back over and sits beside the red stallion's hooves. Her tail continues to wag her tail eagerly. "Is there something you need from he?" He asks with his usual flat tone. It should be expected by now with how the inhabitants of Pantheon seem to be.. They never pass one another by, rather they always feel so compelled to stop and speak with whomever might pass. At least he can rest upon  the fact he speaks amongst his own kind rather than the others that roam this land. Of course, he knows that within himself his convictions to his hatred have started to dwindle. The man knows a certain comfort amongst his own kind that he'll never feel amongst the other races of Helovia, but, his need for eradication has finally ceased. Regardless of superiority, the unicorn will never truly hold rein over this place.. They will only ever truly hold the north and that is enough. 

Quietly he starts to circle the mare and study her entire frame before snorting. Unimpressive and rather small, he decides. No matter how much he might crave it, he deems her an unworthy opponent. So he just returns to standing in front of her and eyes her once more. "talk"