Roland’s sapphire gaze turned away from the painted stallion as a new shape materialized out of the snowy background, pale and seemingly incorporeal behind the curtain of steam that cloaked the bubbling hot springs. The new arrival, a heavily built stallion with a horn like a shard of ice upon his head, bore a cold and unwelcoming look in his eyes, and Roland began to feel slightly anxious under his icy gaze. Despite the venomous, chastising words that reached his ears, the dun gyp hid his unease behind and amiable smile and inclined his head. “My apologies, I have not been part of a herd for many months. Their customs have slipped my mind,” he explained, wondering silently at how else he was supposed to get their attention. Perhaps waiting at the borders would have been a wiser move, but it was too late now.

It was true that he had in some ways forgotten the workings of a herd. The only one he’d belonged to previously was run differently than most, and Roland had always felt more inclined to live a solitary, nomadic life. For a year he had flitted from place to place like a restless bird, scarcely landing before he packed again, changing trail and direction like a driven soul, though only Roland knew the curse; only he knew who may have been pursuing him and why, but he has locked that secret behind his smile with all the others. It was not often that he had to hunt for an answer or explanation, but he did so now. When he parted his lips to speak again his voice caught in his throat, feeling a sudden change in the water’s temperature. The comforting heat that had once swirled around him was shifting to a wintry chill as ice crystals blossomed from the depths.

The curtain of steam seemed to wane as warmth was sapped from the pool, and Roland let out a gasp of shock as he pulled himself hurriedly from the water, hooves finding an unsteady grip on the grassy bank. Gritting his teeth in frustration he cast the white stallion a reproachful look, shivering at the way the cold air felt against his skin. Water pooled around his feet, running down his legs in small icy rivulets to dampen the snow which he stood upon. Sighing quietly, he began to wonder if joining the Basin was truly a good idea; if it was what he wanted for is future, as so far they appeared none to hospitable. He didn’t like to think that the poor treatment he was receiving was because of his own faults, but it could have been the case. Either way he was going to keep his word. Something in the crowned stallion’s gaze told him that if he backed out now he wouldn’t be let off easy.

He doubted they would feel inclined to let him leave without something to remember them by. Shaking cold water from his mane, Roland’s gaze flicked between the two that stood before him before resting once again on the spotted white brute. “I could be an asset to your herd if you would allow me a chance.” He didn’t bother to hide the irritation on his face, but his voice was level and calm. Now that he was wet, cold, and miserable, he was all too eager to leave behind the now not-so-hot springs. “Do I have your acceptance?” He asked quietly, lifting his head and taking a step forwards, hoping the movement would warm him. The sun was a welcoming hint of warmth against his back, but the day had the potential to turn even more unpleasant depending on the answer he would receive.

(So sorry for the wait! Hybrid gave me permission to skip her.)

walk walk walk
"talk talk talk"