Incoming from recent excursions, Yael lands with poise and grace, touching down with years of practice to her dainty little hooves, windswept mane looking more like a bird’s nest than any type of hair. She spies Toulouse, and before it occurs to her that he has everything with him, she greets him with a warm nicker. “Toolouse!” Yael calls out, taking spirited steps towards the silk bedecked gelding. The unexpected takes a moment to register in her mind, but when it does, she maintains a light-hearted tone. “Are you going on a treep?”
If so, she assumes others know. But at the least, someone should know the Sleuth had left.
yael
@Toulouse
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Force and magic allowed, no death please