Interest floods my face as I note the irritation which grows in the golden expression of Leander's at the mention of the Foothills. I would have easily let him know of my own irritation with the herd, though it was not the herd so much as a black and white dun idiot with eyes spewing crimson. Paladin the Valiant, the usurper of the throne of Gossamer, attempting to call upon ties we had no set. There was effort taken to hold the snort in my chest as I thought back to our encounter, but now was not the time to let my temper flare in the face of retrospect. Now, the betrayer's children had emulated their father by abandoning the Throat. They say the apple does not fall far from the tree, but the bereft of Ophelia's services had still shocked me; Ktulu had always been uninterested in herd affairs.

Surprisingly, the source of irritation from the Foothills for Leander was not Paladin, but Ricochet. Skimming my memory, I seem to recall hearing of the stallion before, though I cannot place his face anywhere. Perhaps the brute was from Isilme or had some other relation. Perhaps, I had met him in another of my travels. The shaky film of my memory stutters and comes back blank, leaving me only to listen in on Leander's impressions of him. Giving him a glance as his question rattles from his tongue, I frown slightly. I certainly held no ill will for the Foothills, but hearing one of its members speaking lowly of our home certainly set my teeth on edge. "We have no been close since the overthrow of Gossamer the Benevolent," I respond neutrally. "I care not for the leader who replaced her and saw no reason to keep ties with them."

With a laugh, I give Leander another gritty look. "Had it been me, Leander, this Ricochet likely would have ended up with his ass in the dirt, but I have always been known to have a temper." A mischevious glimmer settles in my eyes before taking a more serious look, as the conversation turns back toward the impending threat of Mauja and his outcast band of followers. A wise stallion, this golden soldier, to think of the vulnerability of our members outside of the boundary of our lands.

This was an duty of herd leader I was entirely comfortable with. An army I could strategize and face, but the conniving sort of violence eluded me. How to keep my citizens safe from harm, out of the reach of brutish unicorns, was a mystery I did not know how to solve. "You are likely correct, Leander," I say with a sigh. "Unfortunately, I have no ideas on how to prevent this without limiting the freedom of those who live here." Maybe this soldier had already thought of the solution that seemed to escape me.
""