Dark eyes shifted to watch a grulla mare approach although his ears stood astutely erect when she chuckled. His eyes lowered, just what was she laughing at? She spoke with an air authority and by her words alone Atlas was able to confirm this was some sort of leader. A mare? A leader? How absurd, he rolled his dark eyes. There was definitely something wrong with this lot. He snorted lightly and opened his mouth to respond just when the sound of wing beats filtered through the air. That was when he got his first look at a dragon. His mouth gaped open, where he had meant to form words, what came out was more of a jibberish fueled yell of surprise as his eyes grew big with shock, surprise and a hint of fear. His nostrils flared as he half reared/bounced in surprise as the dragon swooped toward him by landed on the mare’s haunches before it ever reached him. “Lady, you do realize you’ve got a giant lizard clinging to your butt right?” He said, a bit skeptical. If he had eyebrows they would’ve been raised suspiciously. The mare was treating as a pet and the other two looked it at fondly. Who was to say that thing wouldn’t turn around and take a giant hunk of meat out of her backside. Atlas envisioned it happening, and he almost wished it would then he could laugh at her for not having the good sense to know predators don’t make good pets. Atlas didn’t understand the concept of companions at all.

His eyes went back to the abomination Rishima, as she gave her name and asked his own. He watched the interaction between the mare with the giant lizard and Rishima. There seemed to be familiarity with someone named Mirage. Atlas could care less. He couldn’t help recoiling as she called the lizard, beautiful. He couldn’t help think she was deranged as well.

What caught his attention the most was Solstice, and how had seemingly gotten under her skin. He smiled slyly, almost mischievously at her laid back ears, her snort and stomp. That was one of his few enjoyments in life, getting under people’s skin. In his birth herd he hadn’t the magic or the horn to compete with the rest, so he made himself the biggest pain in the ass he possibly could, every glare was one small victory. Old habits die hard. As Solstice added to Rishima’s request for his name, he finally obliged. “It’s Atlas. He said happily, like his name was some sort of prize they’d all won.

“So what’s this Windtossed Foothills all about?” He asked to none in particular, dramatically exaggerating the herd name. “Sounds lame.” He said dryly, his eyes flicking to the mare with her lizard. "Like a bunch little grassy hills with bad hair days. " He chuckled, well he found it funny.