It isn't hard to tell, usually. There's a point in the exchange of pleasantries where Hé gauges the potential outcome of a meeting. Now he does so, and though polite may describe the stranger's manner toward him, that is all. Not a hint of disappointment flutters across his face, but slows the vibrant rhythm of his pulse just a fraction. Ah. Hé doubts he will leave victorious a second time. A nod answers the mare's gratitude, but then they both find distraction in the greeting party quick to assemble around them: first a mare, a mother, with a spine upon her brow. Second a miniature version of wings and horns, face painted the vivid white of a skull. Hé studies them in amicable silence, his spirits tenacious enough to survive the absolute lack of respect they show for him. Remember, though, he does: Sikeax and Tyrath, of the Dragon's Throat. Subpar diplomats, at best.

The dark brilliance of the spotted stallion's gaze rests with interest upon the third member of Sikeax's party. Sense tells him it's a creature like Ashamin's stags, though the relationship between this new pair and those three is.... different, to say the least. The bitter taste of repulsion fills his mouth almost as entirely as intrigue seems to grab the spotted mare; Hé wonders how rude it would be to leave. His adoration of company extends only so far; yet with a flick of his tail, an eye cocked toward the sky, he commands himself, settle. One can hardly give up at the first glimpse of failure. Things can still be learned, here. Impressions made. Settle.

Hé is about to open his mouth, to make his best argument for the Unbound, when they are joined by yet another: a creature of antlers and dead trees, of light and liveliness, childish in a sense Hé hasn't experienced in a long time. His head jerks; he blinks, malcontent to be ignored yet again by, apparently, the most ill-mannered collection of creatures Helovia has to offer. Were he a more bitter, or a more presumptive creature, he might be tempted to make his distaste for their behavior known — but he is not yet so old. He's merely irritated, his usual cheer fading by degrees until he wears something like mild frown, devoid of amusement. Quiet still, he redirects his attention when Manon again speaks, some of the light returning to his features.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Manon," he says with less exuberance than usual. The solemn side of Hé is very narrow, but it does exist; he pulls it on now in order to keep his anger at bay. "And the rest of you," Hé forces himself to add, though it is certainly not a pleasure, in any respect. "Always interesting to see new faces here." An ear twitches. "I've come representing not a herd but a band, the Unbound. We cannot offer any sanctuary in the form of a private kingdom, but we are protected by our bonds to each other. We roam freely, beholden to no king." It's a speech warmly given, evidence of his continuing affection (for Ashamin, at least) prevalent in the cadence of Hé's voice. He directs the next words to Manon, though the invitation stands open to any who might wish to take it. "You'd be welcome among us, if you find the conventions of herd life.... limiting."