"You didn't tell me the herd would be so, lively," Ricochet mutters under his breath to Smoke. Although his words are light, his tone is heavy with discontent. Ricochet's standing just beside Smoke, clutching to her as a base of familiarity among all this strange. Their walk back from the Threshold had set them to arrive not minutes before the challenge was issued, providing fantastic standing room to watch. In that time Ricochet had scrutinized the black dun heavily, absorbing all knowledge he could of the stallion's battle strategies.

It did not sit well with Ricochet that a unicorn would now be his leader. Smoke had told him in the Threshold he might cross one occasionally here; this would be a frequent torment instead. He couldn't blame the grulla however, she hadn't known of this and really where else would he have gone if not this herd? He wouldn't leave Kimber and Jackal to serve beneath a horn for Nieque's sake!

Hiding his anger as best he could, Ricochet let himself focus on Smoke. Her own disapproval was one he appreciated, although he suspected it was for different reasons. Regardless, he supported her. Although Ricochet and Smoke had fought over titles before, he respected her enough to know her a good lead, he just didn't appreciate losing to her. Either way Paladin had made a mistake in dethroning her, one which only furthered the dunskin's unrest. Perhaps others will feel similar... he thought hopefully. From what Ricochet had picked up from Smoke on their walk back, the Foothills wasn't the Oasis of Isilme. Paladin maintained that equality streak Gossamer had established, and regardless of the king, queen or fool running the place, that was a theory he just didn't agree to. He'd need support though if he planned to change that, and it seemed that while many might not sit well beneath Paladin and his leadership options, they had been fine beneath Gossamer and her peaceful mixing. Was there no one who still stood with honor for their race?

Nieque help me.

Ricochet would need a whole lot of help. Not only in the form of like minded equines, but he'd have to find an inner strength to stomach living here and minding himself enough to avoid premature exile. What was it he'd said to Guns before they left the Threshold, time to put on their shit-eating grins? Between his sister fucking a unicorn and producing a mixed blood equine bastard, his childhood love doing the same and producing a hideous unicorn, and now being lead by a unicorn, Ricochet was becoming rather tolerant rather fast, though not by much choice. If he succeeded in his plans he'd be sure to exterminate unicorns first for all the trouble they'd personally caused him. Pegasus seemed much less irritating today.

Sighing, Ricochet swallowed the dryness from his mouth and stepped forward just enough to be noticed. "I'll take warrior." The stallion paused, lingering for a moment before speaking up once more. "Ricochet the Incendiary, and Guns." The collie at his heels gave a soft bark to his name, well aware now of that garble of words that meant an introduction. Satisfied that he was proper enough, the dunskin sunk back beside the Wild Rose. teal eyes drifting over the crowd.

Paladin had said he'd given Smoke the honor of Head Warrior. The stallion could nearly spit at that. Some honor that was compared to being the military lead that whore traitor Soleil (oh yes he remembered her from his colthood, or rather remembered her deeds) now stood in. Maybe if Smoke slept with the Valiant she'd be re-crowned? Regardless, Ricochet intended to wrest it from his dear friend Smoke in time. He was not satisfied just being Warrior, and although he felt the grulla surely deserved it an more, he had plans to achieve and a better title would give him better notice. That, and he owed her anyway.

For now that, he let such thoughts roll into the dark back of his mind. And he just smile a slight, stupid smile, it would go nicely with his dog's lolling, happy tongue.