‘Dragomir? Is that you?’

The tall paint turns to find a familiar face, and a welcome smile. His own face lights up at the chance to see Alysanne again, his former unease at the sight of her wings all but absent as he cheerfully approaches her, head high and ears lifted. It had been, well, years since he had seen the gardener last, but she was just as he remembered his former herd mate, albeit a bit older. Aloof, as usual, he doesn’t offer her his muzzle, or enclose her in an embrace, as was more standard for the reunion of old friends, but there is a friendliness to his entire demeanor that is reserved only for those he trusts and cares for.

Alysanne! cheerfully booms the heavy bass of his voice, his steps closing the small space still still standing between them. Hemlock, a ghost overhead, who’d been a mere hatchling the last Dragomir had seen him, is given a friendly grin of greeting. Turning his eyes back to his friend, the less than chatty stallion does his part to continue the conversation with his limited skills. Having help mill the rows with the use of the glass plow Aaron had made, and several of the glass panels of the greenhouse, his first instinct is to ask after bicolor mare’s primary job – or, at least, what had been her job the last he’d seen her. For all he knew, she was a warrior now… but somehow, he doubted that. She’d always been shy, shy like he was, and gentle in ways he wasn’t. It made his heart feel light and warm to see that she, too, had grown from who she’d been when they’d first come to the realms of Helovia. How is the garden?

As is common place in Helovia, he does not get to talk long with his old friend before another arrives. He attempts to greet her with as cheerful of a smile as he gave Alysanne, but his nerves pick up and quell the easy joy that had flooded him before. The woman, Syrena, is also rather peculiar, with fins adorning her limbs, as dark as the deep ocean, and tinted with bright azures and indigos. Despite having met others of equine blood covered in scales, rather than a natural coat, the son of Adalwulf finds it no less disturbing than he had any time before.

It’s evident in the sudden tension about his eyes and mouth, though he does he best to remain cordial and kind, as he always does. Wondering if she’d already heard his name as well as that of his pretty friend, he decides to offer it again; he’s rather interested, however, in the mention of the Hidden Falls. The last time he’d come to Helovia, Resplendence had told him that many of the former members of Mirage’s people now lived there, and he’d also heard that the God of the Earth was often seen among the rolling hills and rivers. Of the four divines in Helovia, the Earth was the closest to the God his family followed: Nieque, father of the horses. A father that, as far as Dragomir knew, was dead as the land he’d ruled over.

Dragomir, begins the stallion, nodding in what he assumes to be a welcoming way (he’s not sure). Attempting to look between the two ladies, now feeling incredibly uncomfortable in the realization he was the focal point of their attention (especially the stranger, Syrena), he attempts to continue onward with the conversation. Anymore magical lands pop up out of no where while I was away?

The incredibly short, nervous laugh that follows is as horribly awkward as he feels.

[ OOC: PFFTPFTT of course I don't mind :D Friendship forever ~~ ]