Aurelius was relieved that the journey to his new home was short; the steed's short legs were aching from days of travel, and he so longed for a patch of soft grass to slumber upon. Finally, the temperatures were diving, rather rapidly so, and he felt his breath return to him. Everywhere his eyes went, they saw only withering plants and dirt, and the thirst of the land lay clear as day in front of him. The sunset was beautiful though, bathing everything in cascades of color, making it all seem less dull. It was perhaps not the lush home he had hoped for, but Mauja had assured him that this wasn’t the usual way of things; he would have to believe him, and he hoped that whoever was causing this would cease his madness. Where he came from, the summers were mild and the winters cruel; he didn’t long back to his former life, but he would’ve liked to bring the climate along with him. Certainly a lot of Helovians would appreciate that right now.

The shaggy stag followed alongside Mauja without trouble; his legs might be short, but they were also nimble and surefooted, easily keeping up with his larger comrades. Had it come to gallop, surely he would’ve been eating dirt and Mauja would’ve been a spot on the horizon, but at this speed there was no difficulty. His green and black eyes swept around the terrain, taking in sights of this new home; under the circumstances, he was satisfied with what he had seen. He tried to picture what the place would normally look like, and he fully understood why Mauja had chosen this place for his. He peered up at the larger steed under his thick forelock, the corners of his lips turning upwards in a good-natured smirk. Aury could only imagine what others thought upon encountering him, but a few had put their thoughts to more or less hurtful words. Sure it had hurt him in the past, but his skin had grown rough and he wouldn’t let thoughtless words hurt him anymore. He would even play along, making a jest of it; people tended to like a funny dwarf with a healthy dose of self-depreciation.

What Aurelius lacked in volume, he made up for in wit and speech. By nature he wasn’t much of a warrior, rather a politician if you must place a label, but those ram-horns of his would easily crack a few ribs in an unguarded moment. Also, should a bigger opponent intend to strike him, the target was equally smaller. "Never mind, your grace. Hopefully I will get plenty of opportunity later," he hummed in his smooth voice, but he could easily read the despair on his newfound leader’s voice. Understandable; his home was turning into sand, that would probably upset the steadiest soul. The dwarven steed settled next to the frosty one, ears perking forward at the bellow let out by the other. Under his heavy forelock, his eyes sparkled with expectation, knowing that the time to meet his new family had finally come. On the outside he was calm, but inside his skull, his mind was racing with curiosity. Surely, he should not expect any of them to look like himself, but didn’t matter really; it’s what’s inside the shell that counts.