[Alright it's been over 48 hours so I'm using the Threshold rule to skip order so we can keep the thread rolling. Shatter, feel free to post again at any time.]

The mare offers little in response and it frustrates Ricochet. He sets his tail on his flanks in impatience. He is torn between wanting to aid her, she could prove useful to him in the long run and how better to earn trust than to heal her? Yet his true desire lays in the already fit and capable stallion at his forefront. He glances over at the mare, weighing his options. Her silence is unnerving. Either she cannot hear or she is truly that frail, and yet Guns seems calm beside her, a clear indication that her health is in good standing. The dunskin wondered then what her mental state might be.

"Gundog, stay," Ricochet commands to the collie. He turns his amber eyes, a brilliant flash across the snow dusted forest, and settles them on teal. The glance is brief and quickly finished as the muzzle tilts back to watch the girl. Ricochet bowed his neck in a small nod, leaving her in the capable paws of his dog until such a time as she found the strength to respond or declined to such a degree that he could not so easily ignore her.

"I know not what what ails her but my senses blame her nerves," Ricochet offers as way of explanation as he turns his attention back to the bay. "Perhaps she'll join us when she is able. Until then..." Ricochet shook his neck, black mane flopping on either side with a disheveled look that seemed to suit the hard edges of his face and the scarring that marked it so freely. "To answer your previous question, new blood flows no matter the time. I would hate to have never met you because I was too busy huddled against a mare for warmth." A sloppy grin curled onto broken lips as the Incendiary unleashed his more perverse nature. He had always preferred to greet stallions, they were the naturally stronger sex and were no so delicate of mind. Mares let their moods control them too freely and took offense at flies on their hide.

"Though to say I enjoy this cold would be a lie. I can assume much the same for anyone no matter the thickness of their coat." His voice sobered more now, his expression falling back into it's friendly and casual seams; it exuded young confidence. "You're welcome to hold out the weather in the Foothills herd. You can stay as long as you like and the company isn't so bad." Ricochet was referring mostly to himself, as he loathed most of those he lived beside. This would soon be changing if today would prove a successful streak to lead him to other fruitful bounties of equines. Eventually he would have enough to outnumber the horned goats and the winged oafs crowding his inevitable, bloody throne.