Somehow Fence had never heard straight from any horse's mouth what the Assassins thought they stood for. It had escaped him, just as easily as his own name. And so, when he at last stumbled upon one of their ranks and heard from their very lips spring forth their list of golden ideals, he was shocked.

It was exactly the same as The Grey's.

And suddenly he felt the same sort of competitive burn that his herdmates spoke of, the same sort of offended hurt that accompanied one just jilted. He had seen the colt from his place in the shadows, watched with his own blue eyes as tears fell from the colt's striking emerald ones. When Accalia had approached, he had felt at first no more than the usual frustration upon seeing her crop up all over the Threshold. She gave the same speech every time, seemingly seeking out others for no more than to lift the numbers of the outcast group.

From his place, Fence let out a whinny of greeting before revealing himself. The shadows fell away from his pristine, porcelain body, revealing the contrasting lines of scars that riddled his back. He looked out with warmth in his blue, warrior eyes. He had seen much, but forgotten, too. His braided tail flicked from side to side, and his ears perked forward. He would waste no time in correcting the outcast mare, the newcomer deserved truth.

"If it is the life of a mercenary you wish to live, colt, then The Grey's herdland in the Windtossed Foothills would suit you well. We stand together, a proud family that has earned its place and a lush herdland to call home," Fence spoke cooly, watching the handsome colt for a reaction. He had seen him in his despair, but wasn't about to embarrass him with that knowledge now. "The same morals that the Assassins have modeled themselves after come from The Grey; we can offer you a stable home, a steady source of food, and the most loyal family you will ever know, ever at your side."

He did not look at Accalia, and swallowed his anger. Instead he conveyed only kindness for the newcomer. He employed the same tact and persuasion he had once carried himself with easily in his old home. Here, it seemed, they might serve as an edge over his competition.