It wasn't often that Ricochet was happy in the presence of strangers, or even those familiar to him. He wore anger like a familiar jacket, one that he preferred over any facade of dishonest joy or ecstasy- and in most cases, he had due reason to rage and rant with spittle dripping from his lips. It was difficult to remember any sort of meeting where he had enjoyed himself... even with Kimber and Smoke's presence, it seemed they only brought black news in tow. Ricochet didn't recognize that he was more often the cause of his volatile own anger than external causes, that he was little better than gunpowder waiting for explode. Yet for all his unpredictable and hot-headed flaws, no one could say he wasn't fiercely loyal to his cause with a passion hard to match.

Today was taking a turn for the better unlike all the other days he had spent in Helovia, the land overrun by skyrats and hornheads. With each moment that passed between them, Ricochet's barricades came inching down. At long last, here was another, whose belief was as rich and resolute as his own.

Dragomir grinned at him, and Ricochet's spirit lightened. The tension escaped from the taut lines of his scarred neck and haunches, and his tail flicked, slapping against his wet flanks.

Guns drifts closer beneath Ricochet's stout legs, sitting his hauches down on the soaked grass, better sheltered from the stinging rain. His eyes glint deep brown and amber in the shadows beneath his master.

“Finally!” The Incendiary laughs, teal eyes bright with mirth. How long had it taken to come to this moment, to just find someone who he could call brother or sister without flickering uncertainties of their loyalty to their race? Too long. Maybe there was still hope for his Empire, still a chance, however small, that there were others that he could convert to his faith. It was past time to teach the equines how to believe in their own strength and superiority again. This was his first step to domination; recruit and become the leader that was needed desperately by the equines, even if many of the horses didn't know that they wanted him.

“I've been looking for many months for those like you.” Ricochet tells his newfound ally, a smile quirking at his dark lips, one that fades almost as quickly as it came. Thoughts flicker in his steadfast eyes, memories of lessons and times in the past where he had learned from the rough and sure hand of his father. Once again his eyes flick cautiously over the stallion, sizing him up. Ricochet has never been one to have "frenemies" and half-hearted allies. As far as he's concerned, they either deserve his loyalty or do not. And this stallion... that grin on his face, the way he refered to Nieque, it was clear that he was devoted. “I have been seeking those of similar minds of you and I for the purpose of gathering us behind a single banner, to unite us and take what is rightfully ours and scrub clean this country of the stains.” His hideously burned head tips thoughtfully as he tells Dragomir of his plans, voice loud and fearless. There is no-one here to hear, and if there were, he could either hunt them down later or fetch them to his Empire, depending on their species.

For a split second, his thoughts are drawn to his daughter, Colt. How does she fare here, in this world filled with halfbreeds and the unpure? Has she managed to find any clean of impurities? She may be of his seed, but she is still only daughter, not a stallion hard of heart and strong of mind.

He shakes the questions away as Dragomir introduces himself. Adalwulf. The name rings a bell, but he can't quite place it. An equine, he knew for certain, and an important one... but how and when? Ricochet clears his throat, an almost taunting smile appearing on his face as he offers his hand in friendship to the dark and tall stallion. “I am Ricochet the Incendiary, son of Gunslinger the Unbroken and Colt. Are you with me, son of Adalwulf the Steadfast?”