All most immediately Banjo was feeling better. That was above the level of loftiness he might have dared achieve - certainly none of that feather-brain flying folks about the place took part in. No, his big-eared head belonged out of the clouds; his long-feet square on solid, normal ground. He glanced towards his fine, billowy travel companion, gaging round about about the same feeling from her expression, the gradual lightening of her previously sober stride. Footloose and and fancy free - well he was anyway, and even the sunlight cloaking his rough bronze hide seemed all the more cheerful.

Briefly, as she strolled and he tried, the buck’s casual green gazed slipped across the sleek outfit which Sielu wore. It was gleaming still brighter than the frivolous rainbow colours of nectar-loving avians back home (and in many ways just as nauseating), but stark patterns, candy-coats and apparently smoking sheilas, was pretty much the norm here. Banjo had more or less learned to suck it up and ditch the wonder.

They stepped from an endlessly winding, rocky trail girt by rocky grass, into a new world of - you guessed it, rock and rock. The purple filly’s face lit up with all the ferocity of a trillion fireflies and her glowing gaze combed the fast field of nothingness before them - riveting… Banjo too looked, grinning for her sake and that of his own good-nature, but really, he had half a mind to ‘herd’ them away, in the very opposite direction.

That was until they both heard the cry of youth, born upon the breeze.

“Oh that sounds exciting!” he blurted suddenly, a little overzealously, noting the sweet sincerity on her rather striking face. Maybe the place wasn’t so dull after all! Without pausing to stare (he’d done that to the point of awkwardness already), his whiskered nose followed the direction she searched, and glittering gaze soon discovers them behind her. There was something amusing bout her muteness - his desire to talk into space without so much of a whisper of her contribution. It was also difficult for him to remember that the boom of his accent was not limited to Sielu…

“Bloody parents these days ay? Kid’s worms are prolly eatin him inside out by now… what is it?” Babies were like ravenous bloodsucking mozzies. Theirs were insatiable appetites and he was sure the funny-looking little four-legger would be no different. Smoothly he looked at the only mare among them, “got any boobychinos on deck?” All of them present could've used one it seemed - yeah, even Banjo wasn’t opposed.

More gathered quickly on top of them - undoubtedly freaking such a youngster out, but who was he to tackle the outpour of empathy (mostly) and give him space to breath.

So the buck turned a circle that had him finish some small way back, and from their he watched the unfolding chaos with rather a look of sympathy evolving through his features.