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No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure.

The Deep Forest, Ophelia had said. Indeed, the forest was deep and vast, and in the eyes of the gray unicorn it didn't look very different from the one he had met the little blood-stained mare in.
Preferably he would have followed in her shadow after the conversation at the place called Threshold ended, but the way she had spoken of this place ignited a curiosity that almost overruled the one he felt when gazing into her oddly colored eyes. That, and he had agreed to join her band of mercs, and as such he should probably do some meet and greet and get into the ropes of things before playing around.

Nose to the ground and eyes focused in the distance, the massive stallion plowed through the forest with a speed that would have sent many others stumbling over roots, bouncing into trees and overall make a heck of a ruckus. Not Djinn. He was silent as he walked, eerily so, and despite the trees that stood close by one another he never veered, never took a step out of his way to move around a tree. Instead he slipped through them, immaterial as a ghost and just as unconcerned about physical things. He didn't have to stop and think about it, it was a second nature - no, it was his nature. In a nutshell. Straight, blunt and to the point, with plenty of surprised hiding under the surface.

Anyway, the Gray was awfully hard to find, weren't they. He snorted where he went, finding it intriguing how a band of horses could disappear in the woods without leaving a trace. Couldn't be a large group yet - especially since they were still recruiting. The little lady dove had seemed quite pleased at his acceptance of the offer too, so perhaps they were even pressed for people.

Soon giving up the attempts to track people he had never met, the demon-eyed stallion slowed down into a halt, neck raising under a cascade of inky tresses. Scrubbing a shoulder against a tree, he considered the options. He could continue like this, running around like a fool in search for people who didn't want to be found, he could give up and slip away, letting Ophelia come and find him when he was needed. Or... a mischievous grin spread over shadowed lips. He'd make them come to him.

He took a deep breath, stepped away from the tree, and suddenly let out a deep, rumbling shout in the most obvious, blatantly revealing way he could accomplish.

"OH HONEY, I'M HOME! WHAT'S FOR DINNER, I'M STARVING. BY THE WAY, OPHELIA SENT ME HERE, AND I'M BLOODY TIRED OF SEARCHING. COME OUT COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE!"

Then he settled back again, leaning casually against a tree with a content smirk, waiting for the people to start dropping in. Even if it was just one or two, it'd be a start.

Nor is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain.

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