"I do hope you don't mind me getting in on the fun." Kiuaji's voice floats from beyond the misted treeline as his figure saunters into view, swinging hips and all. His voice lilted with purred undertones as a bemused glint twinkled in his deep purple orbs. "And by getting in, I mean watching Tembovu put those rippling muscles to good use, you should see them in motion dear, it's like art and poetry."

He quite liked all the mist the Edge seemed to have in abundance, it made for a rather spectacular entrance if timed just right with the light and the tree's, Matanye utters a soft click from her place on his swaying croup, bleary eyes peering at the familiar sight of Tembovu and then to the strange mare. She's not fond of Kiuaji's insistence of morning skulking, having not bought his usual chirpy, sarcastic responses whenever she vocalized her displeasure. She felt the morning could be better spent roosting by the cold water springs while her bonded lazies like some exotic courtesan at the day-spa, small creatures often visited in the morning, and presented her with a buffet she didn't even have to move for.

Usually straight banners of creamy silk and savannah gold have taken to being curled as of late, falling in soft waves and the occasional extreme coil, further accentuating his already feminine frame. His winter coat had long since shed to reveal the luxurious metallic sheen his coat possessed, now that blazing and familiar temperatures had made a crackling comeback.

He stops his cat-like approach short of Tembovu, promptly folding his legs to lay against the lush, if not slightly sunparched grasses with an attentive, expectant look and then to the glass targets the crafter had created. "I must say, your crafters are rather effective, aren't they?" It's a compliment, despite the trickle of disbelief lacing his velvet sweet vocal chords. "Are there others able to craft as well? Other than glass, I mean." His gold adorned ear gives a purposeful flick, the large dorobian designed earring swinging in the momentum. The poisoner missed his golds and silks terribly, and it seemed that crafters of that variety were sorely lacking.

His attention eventually drew to the hyena-like Dorobian and a wicked, flirtatious smirk appeared on his delicate features. Ah, was he so amazed at glass crafting? How utterly sweet, his heart could flutter in his chest with it, if he was that type. Which he possibly could be, and he was sure his feline friend would of had a smart comment to go along with his thoughts, if she was present. "Why don't you come sit over here with me? It's been awhile since I've had a handsome man to turn my attention to, other than my dear Bov. Then you can see what all this is for."