"Hello." The word slips off his tongue slowly, cautiously. The hoof comes down. He shuffles a little, dainty steps carrying him forward to the edge of the pool without actually getting himself wet. Seanan dips his head, eyes never leaving her as he touches his lips to the water. He drinks briefly (or just wets his muzzle, the difference is slight).
"I am called Seanan." He hesitates. His head turns slightly to one side and one pale rosy eyes studies her. The sunlight brings out faint lavender hues in his gaze as well as the pearl sheen of his coat. "Do you know of those like you, who fly with the wings of dragons?"
Though only mild curiosity shows in his soft, sing-song voice, it is more than that which drives him. It is memories. The shadow of wings over the sound and the screaming of mares and foals. It's an old memory that makes his skin twitch when it comes out of the fog of time. He was young then. Even though he did not know the stories, he had fled from that shadow just like the rest. As an adult though, he had never feared them. They kept to their mountains, and he kept to his desert.
@Lyanna