Almost immediately after falling into place beside the black and white paint, Apollo, a most pleasuring sensation overcame all of the droopy weariness that had been dragging him down throughout most the night and lifted up the great tiredness from his heavily weighted limbs. Life in the Foothills, life with the Grey... how wondrous Panzram's futuristic visions seemed. Sure it was somewhat childish to imagine things that have yet to and very well might not happen, but there was just this feeling of simple excitement that could not be ignored. Even with all the snow lying about, it wasn't really hard to picture what this land looked like in all it's glory. 

Birdsong was just about here, and then he'd get to see just how accurate his envisionings truly were. As for right now though, things couldn't be more tantalizing than the way that the arising sun's spreading light set the whiteness of the ground ablaze with various fiery colors. 

Nearly the whole way up here, Panzram and Apollo conversed. Not just about one noncreative thing either, the two were quite inventive about their topics, but what else would one suspect from equally minded beings of talkative qualities. At one point or another, a random thought led the gold dusted stallion back to the Threshold where he had stated clearly that he would be no soldier of war, but would still enjoy a life of helpfulness to the Grey rather than being some common citizen. It was that thought that again shot back into his mind as he and Apollo stood their looking on from a rocky knoll down at the sun blasted fields of the Foothills. "Do you think it'd be to much trouble to ask about being an Earth Medic? I think I might like being a healer..." It was rather funny how certain pictures can bring about the strangest of things to mind. In this very situation or moment if you'd rather, it wasn't just a question and it wasn't just a thing to pass more time by asking, it was real and it felt right. 

Realer than any of his imaginary thoughts about the future, and righter than the feeling of being somewhere he belonged.  

"There's really no way of knowing if I'll be any good, but if you'll teach me, I'd like to try." Panzram, for the first time since they'd set foot upon the knoll of which they still stood, pulled his vision away from the setting in front of him and placed it onto Apollo. Even though both of them had only just met a couple of hours ago, it seemed to feel as if they'd been friends for much longer than that. In all honesty, he actually felt a tad foolish for thinking such a thing as this. Apollo probably saw and helped many other new comers to Helovia, how could he be any different than the last and with all the duties he probably has to fulfill on a daily bases how would he ever have enough time to teach him all the things that he knew about healing. Panzram wouldn't dare blame him though if he couldn't, but somewhere inside himself someone was shouting out to the heavens that they (well he) would save lives, no matter what he'd have to do in order to learn.