With a flick of an ear and flaring nostrils, Hector soon deduced that there was someone approaching. The wait was short but apprehensive as he wondered and wondered how these inhabitants would view him. Stay or flee? The great stallion turned his attention to the new pair of eyes before him...

She was young, a yearling maybe but only a filly and clearly curious as all youth were. Or meant to be. He thought off handily to himself. The youth of his town didn't have time to be curious, colts were enlisted as troops before yearling age and fillies learnt how to look after them. The femme population only existed to boost troop numbers. Well, if one was to bluntly put it that is. The filly before Hector, however, seemed different. More carefree and less fear. This sheer fact inspired a long lost hope and Hector let a gentle smile play around his dark lips. He listened kindly to the fillies questions. The last one tweaking his heart a little.

Stay or flee?

Answers would have to wait as another was quickly approaching. His ears flicked in uncertainty, this one had wings like his. Not a filly, a femme yes, but this one was a mare. She was his elder, but not old as he was young. Through the dense, bloody chambers of his body a heart of massive size increased its speed. It wasn't one of love that pounded warmth into every bone, this was emotional pain driven like it was being whipped for betrayal. Mares had always been judgemental towards him, they hid their children and slandered him for being different. The stallions that were soldiers left him to die in skirmishes and the nobles only saw him as a tool. This is not that place! Hector controlled himself and looked to the pegasus mare as she too then spoke.

Brother?

The tribrid stood stunned. His flaming eyes staring at the mare, his posture stiff in shock. No one ever called Hector brother. It took a while but he did control himself once more and smiled sheepishly at the pair. "They named me Hector. I'm from a place called Eboracum, a place far away from here." The vocals were not smooth or gruff, instead they commanded a presence that Hector didn't always want. He considered the last question the filly had asked, turning it over in his mind. These folk didn't seem to care for his appearance, they came in calm manners. They confused him and intrigued him. Maybe he did want to stay.

Stay or flee?

"I... Yes a place to stay would help me most"

Stay.