Warriors were things of legend, hardly needed in peaceful places - or so he thought. Helovia was like a foalhood tale come to life and Wilibald had not yet decided if he liked the idea of living inside of one of those tales (but he was pretty sure he didn't). They often ended with casualties and death so as to warn foals against going to look for trouble. Bravery was risky. “I’m unlikely to make a tough warrior.” He responded without any sort of disappointment – it was the truth after all. He had neither the build or the desire to go and fight… whatever warriors fought. Each other? Proving how strong they were in order to impress a mate? Fiddlesticks, just make her the biggest pile of food offerings and she’s yours.

The answer to his second question was rather surprising. He had expected to hear about monsters and plagues, something tangibly fearful. If it was just stupidity, well, that was something he could handle.

It was with absolute delight that Wilibald launched into an explanation of the land he had come from – his smile grew and a little spring entered his steps as home danced as a vision inside of his mind. This was something he could share with Midas happily. “The Anduin Valleys are what we call them. Several little lush valleys that my kind migrate through, each more delightful than the last. There’s nothing harsh about it – the mountains keep out the predators and the winter and we are free to eat and sleep and live.” Speaking about home gave him a little pain in his stomach. Homesickness was not a feeling he had been warned about, having not been experienced by many of those that he knew as no one left, but it seemed to be coming in full force.

“This place actually reminds me of it.” The mountains were comforting though Wilibald’s comment was likely lost in the roar of the waterfall. He had thought this was it – that this place lying before the waterfall was Midas’s home, but it turned out that this was only the beginning. “Sure footed enough, I think.” Wilibald was no stranger to mountainous passages, which were not always dry and free of obstacles, and he picked up the path after the winged male – feeling rather eager to see the actual place that he had heard about.