The peaceful, uninterrupted silence that ensued as Roland lowered himself into the water allowed him time to think, though his eyelids drooped from fatigue. He recalled his meeting with Lena in the Threshold, a memory that seemed so foreign, a mere haze of imagery even though it had only been a few months since he’d spoken with her. During their short time together, she had spoken of a northern land and the herd that lived there, called the Aurora Basin. Something about it had sparked his curiousity, and the yearning to see it had lingered in the back of his mind ever since they had exchanged goodbyes. Now he was thrown in the midst of all the ice and snow, finding himself regretting the choice to venture north in a daring investigation.

He had enjoyed the warmth of summer in the more southern regions, so it had come as a great shock that even in summer the Basin seemed so cold and wintery. He had assumed that Tallsun would be the safest time to venture forth, but he had been proven wrong as soon as smoothly sloping fields had blended into rocky ground and towering snow drifts. On top of that, he was pressing a gnawing feeling of embarrassment to the back of his mind, as he had become unquestionably lost in the barren wasteland, with no outstanding landmarks to guide his way across the bleak terrain. Tired and frustrated, he had gravitated to the nearest promise of warmth; the hot springs set into the earth, melting through the thick layer of permafrost and radiating precious heat from its murky depths. Bubbles rose from the muddy floor, brushing against the stallion’s gilded hide as they floated to the surface and vanished into the air.

Sleep was nearing him as he rested, each breath from his nostrils casting ripples across the surface of the steaming water. Lulled into a false sense of security, he was slow to react when the sudden sound of hoof beats cut through the silence, muffled against the soft snow. He started violently, the water tugging at the angles of his body as he turned around and looked up into the amber eyes of a horned stallion. The moment the brute opened his mouth, Roland felt an overwhelming sense of dislike towards him. He had initially been startled by the sudden intrusion, at the harsh voice cutting through the curtain of steam and jerking him from his reverie. Though his eyes had flown open in shock, he regained his composure with practiced ease, meeting the man’s venomous glare with an expressionless gaze.

Beneath his calm exterior his blood was racing, heart pounding as he seethed with annoyance, yet not even a whisper of it showed upon his face. He appeared to be ultimately unbothered by the sudden appearance, even as his chest tightened in resentment. The turmoil of his feelings was kept hidden beneath the surface; a practiced act as Roland has had to do it many times. He blinked and forced a smile onto his face, though his body was tense and wary. To an outsider who was aware of the workings of his mind, they might look on in fascination to see how flawlessly he trimmed his manner to suit the situation, but he had learned years ago to live on several planes at once. The art of it was to forget everything except the ground you stood on and the face you spoke from at that moment.

“I’m merely looking for a break from the cold, trespassing was not my intent. You say you’re from the Basin?”

( No worries ^^ )

walk walk walk
"talk talk talk"