The unmistakeable awe crashes like a wave over his companion's face. Watchful now, Caneo wonders if he looked like that the first time he stood upon the brink. Despite his earlier thoughts, he can't help from chuckling, expression bright with approval and with pride. Even if the Throat is not yet home, Caneo feels glad to have recruited someone with such feeling for it. He nods, a smile curling gently across his mouth. The anxious tension of his nerves fades by degrees, soothed by the voices of the waves. "I think so, too," Caneo answers softly. Were he a little younger still, he might call Dasmine friend, as well.

    But Caneo is a sharper creature than the one who found Helovia those years ago, stars in his eyes and bloody miles underfoot. He stands beside Dasmine and yet he is miles away from her, held distant by a wary mind. The thrill of their journey hasn't blinded him to their surroundings; a sharp jerk of his head brings Caneo's attention at once skyward, where he finds the shape of a winged creature wheeling toward them. It is not Ampere. Surprise prickles through him, visible between heart beats in the wide, empty shine of his eyes. By the time the stranger touches down, Caneo has swallowed the feeling. He stares evenly at brown wings over a brown hide, at a brisk, lively pace carrying a small body in his direction.

    Does everybody here move like a soldier?

    Everyone except himself, he supposes - and Essetia. Caneo's ears flick forward at the sound of the mare's voice, and it's friendly, so much that he can do little more than stare. These winged mares are so.... much. He doesn't recall others of their kind being this way, and he doesn't hate it, but it definitely takes a bit of getting used to. He's silent for a beat too long, confused by this stranger who knows his name. He has not given it to her - and so, who did? If Megaera's expression tightens just a bit at the sight of him, Caneo's does the same, suspicion greeting suspicion, tamped down on both ends and given no voice. "Good morning," he says simply, silver voice a bit cooler than it usually is. "It is an honor to meet you, Sultana. I hope to be a useful spy."

    As if to display his usefulness, Caneo swings now to gesture at Dasmine. Glad to find the Sultana's attention slipping from him of its own accord, he falls silent, content to watch and to wait, and allow the newcomer to speak for herself. His part in this draws swiftly to an end. He thinks longingly of the oasis, of napping in the brush and tracing the course of the black water at night, but most of him is still upon the cliffs, waiting to know if it has done well.