When the
Shifting his weight when the conversation carries on, the Warlander’s attention shifts idly between the other two stallions. Tembovu inquires of the trade that Quentin might be looking to pursue, and the warrior issues his deep voice forth in a smooth continuation of the king’s. “There are many ranks available for you to explore,” he pauses briefly, his crooked smirk deepening when the picture of this manicured, seemingly high-maintenance stallion as a warrior flashes through his mind—but really, who is he to make judgements?
Rohan intends to elaborate on the aforementioned ranks, but he is stolen of the chance when a pale, sapphire-dusted pegasus emerges to join them. He recognizes her almost instantly from the recent herd meeting; their new queen. She introduces herself as such, and the antlered warrior can’t help his appreciative musings. He has yet to know if she will be an equal leader to Tembovu, but she’s certainly excelling for herself in the beauty department. “Queen Elsa,” his thick neck arches in a bow of his head, green eyes glistening when they rise to meet hers, “I don’t believe we’ve officially met; my name is Rohan.” He casts a glance to Quentin, assuming that the pixie male would like to introduce himself.
“Speech.”