The cherry newcomer politely gives Cera room that the Prince does not truly need, not when he was born and raised on the winds and in the skies. But it prompts a warm, appreciative smile from the Golden nonetheless, the respectful awareness of his species comfortingly displaying to Cera the first inklings of the kind of man Hector had brought to the Throat. Speaking of the warrior, Cera gently dipped his head towards the tribrid as he spoke, mentioning once more how he wished to meet with Cera privately later to converse regarding their fractured friendship. He didn't want to mention it in front of this newcomer, who they were trying to both impress and display the honest vices and virtues of their herd to. It was a delicate matter, and Cera momentarily wished Hector had not mentioned it, if only because it was so private.
 
"Aye, soon," he comforted softly. Ilaria stiffened on his spine, and Cera swallowed as he realized he'd momentarily adopted his father's manner of speaking. Wrenching himself free of those thoughts, grateful that the transition had not shown on his usually expressive cherubic features, the Prince smiled warmly at Horus in greeting. Perhaps unfairly using the polite man as a distraction, but his attention at least was sincere. Surely that meant something in the grand scheme of polite interaction.
 
The fellow reminded Cera of the old ways, and the Prince bowed his head in paralleled greeting as the pale face did so first. For a moment his face heats at the implication that Horus believes Cera embodies the values of nobility and strength that Hector had enforced, and does not know how to react to such incredible praise. Instead he convinces himself that Horus did not mean it in such a way, and instead focuses on the brute's further syllables. A soothing smile is summoned to the Prince's face, eyes warm with understanding. It is a foreboding thing, to stand on the borders of a strange land beneath the gaze of a strange fellow, seeking entrance with only the words in your mouth to speak for you. 

"Your manners are impeccable, Horus. Please, be at ease." Whether or not he would be able to heed Cera's advice would be seen, but he hoped it would at least ease some of the worries laying in the shadows of the man's heart. Hearing the man speak of exhaustion only softened the corners of Cera's own tired eyes further. And unlike many who came to their sands, he was willing to go through any task or trial Cera could concoct for him to prove his willingness and ability to be trusted. Even in his less than stellar state. That spoke far more for the felllow's temperament and honesty than anything else, but Cera also knew that without Gaucho, their herd was at a weak point. He could not simply accept anybody for appearing nice. 

"Yes, I have the key you will need to make it to the mainland. But do not fear, even if you were to change your mind, you could find a night's haven in our lands. Helovia is large, and traversing her is an exhausting task." Even flight could not cut down the hours and days required to make it to a bordering land, much less another herd. Especially with how far north the Threshold lay. Cera understood his failing energy, and vowed to make the interrogation as quick as he could to spare Horus the task of standing there immobile for hours more. 

"Do you have any talent or desire to learn about a certain skill? We have diplomacy, metal crafting, fighting, healing, and divination of the Gods. We pride ourselves on the fact that our citizens all contribute something to the herd, and while you could take some time to think on what path you would desire, we would expect you to pick a route to journey along in time." Long ivory tail flicked against his hocks as he inquisitively eyed Horus, never losing his warm and easily approachable demeanor, but falling into seriousness nonetheless regarding this important parlay.