For a moment, Roland was caught up in the nature of the hot springs; the heat of steam wafting around his limbs, the soothing murmur of the water as it boiled against the rocks. The morning sunlight washed across the curve of his back, setting aflame the ends of his copper mane. It was calming, almost enough to lull him to sleep. It very well might have, if an unfamiliar voice hadn’t drawn him from his reverie, shattering the silence with its teasing tones. Roland started, tearing his gaze sluggishly from the water, ears swiveling as he pinpointed the noise. His gaze settled upon a silver mare as she drew herself from the sparse trees decorating the stony hillside, her sterling coat caught in the early morning sun. The Thief leveled a calculating eye upon her, shifting his weight onto one side as she neared. If he found any amusement in her interruption, it did not show upon his face. “You might be,” he responded evenly, narrowing his gaze. She was certainly bold, taunting a mere stranger and catching him off guard. Roland’s lip twitched, but as she drew nearer he broke out into a good humored smile.

The mare advanced upon him before he had the chance to get another word out. He tensed, wondering for a wild moment if she was about to push him into the water, but she merely drew close enough to catch his gaze in their broken reflections rippling across the surface of the spring. Roland caught a startling glimpse of his own bemused face, and quickly schooled his expression into something less troubled. He turned a bewildered gaze upon the mare as she introduced herself, reaching out to bump his nose in a rather brazen greeting. Roland’s eyes widened slightly, his neck tensing as her muzzle knocked against his. He drew himself back a step, lengthening the distance between them. Tangere’s proximity wasn’t exactly bothersome, but he generally liked a certain amount of space in which to breathe. A medic. So she trained under Lena, then.

“Roland, Thief,” he volleyed back with a grin. Perhaps at one time he would have taken a greater interest in her appeal; sometimes he missed the freedom he’d once had- the recklessness, the abandon with which he’d approached each and every obstacle- but they were all virtues of his youth, and if he was to make any sort of interest clear to her, it would only be half hearted. He could admit to himself, however, that the attention was always appreciated; but his vanity was a feature that was unlikely to change any time soon. “I’m not interfering with your bathing plans, am I?” He asked, cocking his head at her. “Or was it soul searching you came to do?”

@[Tangere]