Howl was so caught up in his musings of beauty and aesthetics that he did not notice the dark bay's presence until his words cut the frigid silence. At first, he tilted a furry ear towards the stranger, contemplating what he was to do next—the words themselves seemed cordial enough, and the grey felt that any sort of company was greatly desired. Following the ear were two golden eyes, a long horn, and nostrils which emitted pale plumes of breath; Howl beheld a robust young stallion, with a golden horn and eyes to match his very own. His tail flicked in a curious manner, the bronze cuff making a slight metallic noise as it rolled up and down the length of his lion's tail. They shared several similarities, such as the tall spiral horn, a generous beard, a lion's tail and cloven hooves—he wondered if his father belonged to the same tribe, but chose to disperse the thought with a slight shake of his head.

"It appears that we hail from the same place," Howl said with a laugh so dry it hurt his throat, watching the dark bay (Rikyn was his name) approach him with confident ease. Rikyn settled a comfortable distance away from him, close enough to encourage conversation, but far enough to be polite. "Well met, Rikyn," he concluded in a more collected manner; not being one to be rude, the grey decided to introduce himself as well: "My name is Howl." He was careful to never equate the word 'Howl' with the words 'I am', as that single phrase would constitute a lie, and lying was something the grey chose to avoid as much as he could in such a merciless world.

Rikyn offered polite small talk coupled with an easy grin, one which was reciprocated (although perhaps in an abbreviated form) on Howl's face. He nodded in agreement to the other's thoughts on the weather; the grey greatly appreciated conversation, especially as the winter drew the loneliness out of his bones, and thought that this stranger would prove to be interesting yet. "I hope it stays," he concurred rather lamely, looking out towards the snow-blanketed rotunda. After a thoughtful moment of silence, Howl turned his eyes towards the dark bay, an inquisitive expression tracing his countenance. "Do you know what the purpose of this building is?" he asked, tail flicking as if to enunciate his curiosity. In his homeland, it was not uncommon to find shrines like this one surrounded by magnificent stone gardens dedicated to the gods. He knew for a fact that Helovia was ruled by its own gods as well—he remembered the beautiful Lady of the Night and her star-studded eyes. Watching the other curiously, Howl wondered if Rikyn was a foreigner himself, born in distant lands and forsaking the protection of a herd for a noble cause (or perhaps no cause at all); or if he was born in these strange lands, privy to its stories and secrets. At any rate, Howl was glad for the company, and hoped the other would stay, at least for a little while.