As sudden as the wind changing direction, the crowned stallion lightened the mood with a chuckle, dismissing his earlier insults. Roland relaxed slightly in the water, unsure how to react at being called boy, but he made no mention of it. Arguing was not going to get him what he wanted, and if the brute thought he was no threat than it was to his own advantage. He listened to the paint erupt into cacophonous laughter, not sharing his amusement at the situation. Though he didn’t admit it aloud, he was slightly troubled. Lena had told him that the Basin was a northern place, but he hadn’t expected the weather to be so bitter and cold, especially when the world was in the throes of Tallsun.

On top of that, he wasn’t sure what to think about the crude man who stood before him, and the way he spoke that was so strange and informal. Perhaps they all spoke so brusquely in the northern herd? But then again he had conversed with Lena, and she spoke with a much more affable dialect. He dismissed it as merely the stallion’s attitude; it wasn’t an obstacle that would be difficult to overcome. Yet as he listened to the stallion speak he realized that there were deeper conflicts that ran within the Aurora Basin besides the odd bit of ill-breeding. Roland frowned slightly, the minute gesture beneath notice as the paint gestured to the knife that curled from his forehead. It only took a moment before he realized what he was alluding to, and his heart clenched in uneasiness. He had been in Helovia for little more than a season now, yet this was the first breath of news that he had heard about the Basin being racist.

It wasn’t something he believed in personally; as an orphaned child he had been taught to welcome all, and no physical feature would define the way he treated someone. But even as a sickening knot of disgust formed in his chest, he decided not to mention his aversion to the practice. He was here, suffering through the cold, to gain a one-up on life, and if he wanted to accomplish great things he would have to be like them. His breath once again rippled across the steaming water, sapphire gaze drawing away from the paint to look out across the bleak hills in the distance. Was this really what he wanted? Would he be able to stand the cold and eternal winter, when he had the option to enjoy the sun and heat of a greener country in the south? Would it be too difficult to maintain a flawless façade under the gazes of his soon-to-be herd mates?

Roland had always enjoyed being among the elite, and this seemed to be the place to achieve his ambitions. It would be worth the challenge in the end, he assured himself. If they were racist, let them believe that he was too. A con artist was used to making sacrifices, and he was no different. His icy gaze swept back towards the painted stallion as he spoke again, and his muscles tensed in annoyance at the stallion’s jest. The irritation didn’t show on his face, and he even smiled amiably at the joke the brute tossed at him, letting a chuckle escape his throat. He wasted no time mulling over the silence, and steeled himself for what he was about to say, knowing that it would require his full commitment and loyalty. “A tempting offer, I’m sure. What I’d truly like is to join your herd. ”

walk walk walk
"talk talk talk"