Oversized ears had tipped forward to regard Brisa’s small explanation of the kitsune - he smiled warmly, genuinely, glad the story made sense to one of them. The creature was indeed some part of a fox, he agreed, and for the time being was content enough to run with her story - horses with wings and others with pets… and why not? Banjo’s identity was no less ludicrous. It was exciting to find a wonderland so strange, so similar to he. In ‘the bush’ there were dingoes and devils (the latter of which seemed canine, but in truth was the personification of its evil namesake), both four legged, sharp-toothed, single tailed predators; plain things with common features. He said nothing more about it however, and offered Hikari a friendly, soft snort when he noticed she’d inched a little nearer.

The pretty sheila went on to explain the reason for her evening swim and the buck nodded quietly while he listened. “Ah yes,” he sighed humbly, turning his shoulders first towards the fading glow on the horizon, and hen his length. The waves roared and crashed rowdily some distance away indicating that perhaps a sandbank loomed not far beneath - or a reef! How lovely. “Puts on a beaut show ay?” Though pretty, the colours which had dressed the heavens weren’t nearly as dramatic as the burning end to days in the outback; both land and sky ignited there, so that one really couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. That he would’ve loved to show this pretty lady if that sorta stuff was her thing. Unhurriedly the horsaroo returned.

Brisa and Tilda had that appreciation in common.

Banjo wasn’t about to pry into the thoughts which she’d fled, but a sliver of concern did very briefly mar his cheerful expression - there, lingering in darkness beneath the swing of corks suspended around his face. The mind could be a dangerous weapon, he knew well; it was not immune to disease or corruption, and given half a chance it held the power to deal devastating wounds. She looked well enough however as his discerning eye grazed her surface (either that or the dusk concealed her well), so it never entered his head to ask.

“Hmm,” he pondered her query aloud, thinking back to the meeting in the Threshold. Banjo didn’t particularly understand the concept of ‘Helovian’ kingdoms, factions or the outcasts in-between. Where he had come from, there were some creatures more adapted to desert dwelling (his old man), others to the bush (like his Mum) and some who were just perfectly built for life in the air - actually, avians exclusively, none of this horse-bird blend. Kanga-pons were one thing… the other was too anatomically puzzling to even tempt his consideration! Whats more, all species lived in harmony back home, (clearly), fulfilling their role as naturally as could be in that big old circle of life.

The wanderer answered finally, “haven’t really set my roots down yet, figured I’d just backpack ‘round and get to know the joint first up.” He thought of the feathered gal he’d met previously in the forest - everyone had one of these homes it seemed. “How ‘bout you two?”Banjo asked, not imagining much more than a roaming herd like his Mum’s - perhaps they all had cute little Hikari’s running ‘round their hooves. The notion was more than entertaining! “Maybe you guys could shed some light on the best tucker spots? Somewhere grouse to bog down in the grog?”

---

Dress | cork hat on head, bandana around top of neck
@Brisa