Lost in time, the panda-faced executioner found himself standing tall, chest jutting forward as he admired his home. He had been absent in mind, but present in body. Locket had milled around the land he called home, losing himself to the hungry Thought, letting it devour his mind whole. He left his home soon after, leaving himself to rest his weary soul. Jumbled thoughts had rolled through Locket's head as he traveled, his mind lost to thoughts so deep.

It had been many a season before he returned, now it was a few days after Tallsun's prime, the weather slowly sinking into the crisp, climate of Orangemoon. The air itself was crisper, the green leaves scheduled to fade into hues of red and orange. Standing proudly and surveying his home, the executioner brought himself to walk forward, his cloven daggers pressing him closer to the core of the land. His long, Arabian legs kept his stride smooth, his darkened lobes flickering, scanning for noise. His home was silent, an odd thing for him. The air had changed, new scents came and went, flowing to his nostrils. Opening his pale lips, the accented voice of his flew from his tongue. "Ophelia? Ktulu? Archibald?" The green gaze is carried across his home, and he feels an empty feeling creep across his chest. The names he spoke were the words of his familiars, the sisters, the founders of the Grey, and Archibald, the ever proud General.

Stepping forward, the steed tilts his head, nostrils catching a stale scent, Ktulu? His voice echoes, his mind wondering why her scent was leading from the center of the Foothills. Ophelia's scent was no where, Archibald's scent faded just as Ktulu's was. A frown was presented upon his pale kissers, confusion spreading over Locket's features. He was confused and a little scared, wondering why their scents were so faded. They couldn't have left now could they? No, the founding sisters would never leave the Grey... or would they?

"talk talk talk"
[getting the feel for Locket <3 feel free to fill Locket in on what he's missed (Basin invading DT & WE, Ktu/Phi/Archi all leaving, etc.).]

His voice is heard by another, a grey draft with green dipped feathers and mossy hair. Locket takes the man in, nodding his head despite the look the stallion is giving him. Emerald eyes look over the well built warrior, a pearl marked brow raised. He examines the steel grey stud until he speaks, his words blowing away the sooty chestnut man. "How could they leave the Grey like this?" Shocked, Locket lets out a frustrated snort. Is brows narrowed, his nostrils flaring as he tries to think of why the three would leave the Foothills. If they left... then... "the Grey is no more." His accented words are solemn, his sooty lobes flicking back. His heart felt broken, knowing the leaders he looked to were no longer leading the Foothills to a glorious, victorious era.

Rude words were shot at Locket, the stranger wishing to know why the white faced stallion had entered the Foothills. He flicks his emerald eyes to the green hued warrior, his normally soft features turning into a serious, solid expression. "That is no way to treat an Executioner of the Grey... Foothills I mean." His last words were said with dismay, the accented speech turning into a solemn, deep tone upon those words. Why have you allowed such things to happen, Father? He whispers through his mind, the image of Father Earth flickering through his horned skull. Upon the image he is reminded of his quest, and the Bonded he must find.

The Executioner straightens his back, flicking his bushy, sooty tail. He wonders who is leading the Foothills now, who the Chief or Chieftess could be, opening his pale lips, he speaks again, accented words rolling from his tongue. "So who leads the Foothills in these times?" The question sits in the air between him, the stallion of the Grey letting his audits flick forward, interested in hearing what has become of his home.

"talk talk talk"

The invasion of the Edge? Tilting his head to the side, the man did not understand. There had been no invasion except for the one the stallion himself participated in, the one in which the Grey dominated the Foothills. Locket exhales, looking at the stallion with a solemn look. He was not pleased with anything as of now, his heart shattered by the news of the Sisters leaving their family. And the big General Archibald must have followed them, already sensing the collapse of the Grey's era.

"I suppose this must be changed, this... 'vulnerability.' We cannot have our hard earned land falling apart." Locket begins walking towards the border, looking back at him with a gentle smile on his lips. "Let us not stand here uselessly, shall we patrol the borders?" Using his black dagger to point to the border, the stallion gazes at him with pleased eyes. His pale kissers have been turned into a please smile, his eyes glittering with a certain excitement. He was in a hurry to get back to patrolling the borders and fending off intruders.

"Phaedra and Apollo you say?" Locket takes in the newly shared information hungrily, audits flickering with pleasure upon the words that danced from the white kissers of the other stallion. "I will congratulate them later." The stallion murmured to himself, a mental note scratched down. Locket lets the stallion speaks again, speaking his desires to see the herd rise to power once again. Nodding his head, the panda-faced stud agrees, knowing he will be one of the members who will have to help the herd become strong once again. "I am Solace." A smile spreads across his pale lips, and Locket speaks in his accent. "My name is Locket. It's nice to meet you Solace." It sounded more like he said his name was Rocket and the stallion's name was Sorace. Locket was occasionally frustrated with his accent, only because he couldn't understand himself sometimes.

"talk talk talk"

The steel Warrior shifted his weight, appearing uncomfortable at Locket's mention of the Invasion. The stallion in front of him explained how the Basin and the Grey had held a contract, that being the reason they fought in the invasion, which was claimed by many to be a big mistake. He then muttered about how it was the soul reason the Grey collapsed, making the Executioner flick back his pale auds in disapproval. "It was the Basin's fault for this tragedy? He asks, accented words filled with a curious venom. To himself, he murmurs under his breath. "Ophelia, Ktulu and Archibald... all because of the Basin." Sudden wish to become even with the Basin grows in his chest, angry that they had taken away the two main supports of the Grey, then wiping away another important piece. How could a herd be so cold hearted as the Basin?

The sooty chesnut watches the warrior accept his offer to patrol, tagging behind as they set off along the border. "'Tis a good thing you are bringing in recruits, the Grey... Foothills will need all the help we can get now that we've been hit down like this." Locket nods his head, knowing the warrior means well. "But you should patrol too, and keep yourself fit, and as you're a warrior, you'll need to train your fighting skills." The stallion himself hadn't fought in a long time, since the Grey first invaded the Foothills. Of course, that had been seasons ago.

Upon the talk of Chief and Chieftess, the steel grey draft spoke his mind about the two leaders, Locket nodding as he listens to the stallion babble. "Mmm... he was appointed by Ktulu then? And yes, the two of 'em seem to do good for this herd, seeing as how long they've kept us a float." Locket smiles, knowing that the two leaders must be doing the best they can muster, for it is they who keep the Foothills together, who hold it's weight upon their backs.

The stallion speaks again, a pleasure it was to meet Locket, as he states. But his mind does wander to the panda-faced executioner's accent. He wondered if had said his name was Locket or Rocket. Smiling with a humorous glint in his eye, the stallion tilts back his crown a little to laugh. This was not the first instance in which someone has asked him about this matter, wondering if his name was Locket or Rocket. Clearing himself of his laughter the stallion opens his pale kissers and explains. "The first, I'm sorry if I cause you trouble the way I speak. The latter is due to my accented speech." The steed simply smiles now, still snickering to himself inside his head as he walked beside the stallion.

"talk talk talk"

As the two strode together, Locket was content that he had someone to walk beside him, so he was not to be alone as he normally was. A smile was constantly spread across his pale kissers as he and Solace patrolled side by side, keeping one another's company. "You make a point." Solace's voice hits pale lobes, causing them to flicker and swivel as he looks at Solace. "Mhm, indeed." Locket smiles and chuckles, pleased that his partner agrees with him.

A lullaby of silence sneaks between the herdmates, pale kissers shut for no words were thought of. Locket considered making the first word of their new subject, but Solace snatched it from his grasp, speaking of how Ktulu had appointed Apollo once the Forsaken had gone her own way, and how the Merciful brought the Opulent to Chieftess. Nodding his head in understanding, Locket smiles, his accented words flowing fluently through the air. "I will trust the Sister's choices then, and follow without question. Do you do the same already, brother?"

After Locket's explanation of his accent, Solace simply responds with, “you’re not the only one that roams this land with an accent.” Confusedly the Warrior, cocks his head, a sign he does not know of the one Solace speaks of. "Why, who else walks this land and talks with an accent?" Locket was curious, wishing to meet this mentioned steed. Maybe they could converse and joke about others not understanding their speech. What a time that would be. A gentle chuckle resounds from the core of the sooty man, as he smiles to himself and turns his head to gaze out over the Foothills. "I've missed this place." He sighs, the memories of the invasion and after flooding through his mind, his sparring with the great Dauntless, his becoming an Executioner, and the pride of joining the Grey. The soft sigh brushes through the wind, reminding the pale faced stud of the day he left the Grey behind, the day he last saw the Grey before vanishing to the unknown.

"talk talk talk"