There was a moment when Ashamin questioned the other white buck's sanity. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, or maybe it was when he called the woods by the falls a lake. As if in disbelief, as if needing to check, the Clovenheart looked down to be sure that they both stood on (relatively) dry land. When he saw nothing but earth beneath them, a small shiver ran along his spine.

Who exactly was Ashamin dealing with here, and what mental state was this stranger really in?

Bolstered by his two companions, Ashamin did not back down. The other stallion's voice was rage or distress, something that forced the words to form a harsh explosion, but The Clovenheart would not retire his comforting ways even as the shrapnel of those words struck him. "Someone that isn't alone," Ashamin replied quickly, the words almost a bit too biting despite their kind intent. He couldn't help but sort of match the white one's fire; it wasn't hard to get the Clovenheart geared up.

Lochan nudged the painted buck, pressing his white fore-marking to the stallion's leg as he often did, as if to soothe him. Rakt sent bloody splashes to his bonded, as if to remind him to not give into the other's fire. Together, the sensations balanced him out into something calm and determined, but still forgiving.

"I am Ashamin the Clovenheart; these are my companions, Lochan and Rakt. I know this land is strange, but I assure you I, at least, mean you no harm. I might be able to help you, find you some shelter or assuage your fears, if you would give me the chance."

His long tail curled and twisted, somewhat anxious as he awaited the larger buck's reply. It was a big if given the stranger's current mood, but Ashamin hoped he might be able to help him regardless. Wasn't that a whole part of his mission out here in these wilds: to share his knowledge with others, to help them? The Clovenheart considered mentioning all that to the white stallion, considered citing the others he worked with as evidence that he wasn't all bad, but he doubted that his new company would be so receptive to that information right now. No, the fewer people involved in this scene—whatever it was—for now, the better, he suspected.

So he watched, black eyes wide and attempting to appear kind despite the red reflecting from all around him, and hoped. Whoever this stranger was, Ashamin didn't want him to be scared like this. He had known the feeling himself, and he knew how wretched and heart-twisting it was.
""

ASHAMIN

The Clovenheart