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The freckled female not-horse is the first to react to his words, and what a reaction it was. The sharp expletive took the white stag by surprise, causing him to slide one notched hoof backwards as though preparing to flee. If anyone should be surprised, it should be him! Cautiously entering a strange land only to be happened upon by these not-equines, especially the third fellow in their midst, with the weird trappings and adornments around his neck and upon his poll. And he was the strange one?

Leif's eyes grow wide for but a moment, blue-green depths eyeing the earthen-tressed female with a look of wary before she is going on, apologizing for her rather unnecessary outburst, before giving him her name. Elspeth. That was her name, this ivory doe, and slowly Leif nodded his majestic head, slowly feeling his haunches relax and his head raise.

"It's... Quite alright, Doe Elspeth," Leif murmured softly, vocals still respectful and elegant, dignity coating every syllable, "Helovia, you say? I have never heard of this Helovia..." And wasn't that a strange word on his tongue? How queer.

From there, the golden not-horse talks, and confirms Elspeth's statement. The Threshold of Helovia... How odd was that day going to get? He continued, his words spoken with a smooth and low undertone that was quite unlike Elspeth's uncertain, trembling curses and queries, and he states that Leif is welcome, even among this land of horses. For a long moment, perhaps longer than Leif would realize, he stood in silence and contemplated that statement, letting the word coat his tongue and hang there as he grew acclimated to it.

Welcome.

When was the last time that he had been welcome anywhere?

In short; never.

"A pleasure to meet you, Stag Thranduil, and Stag Haldir. Thank you for the welcome." It meant far more than perhaps Thranduil could fathom. The white elk briefly pondered the kinship between Haldir and Thranduil, before turning his blue-green eyes upon the final of their party.

Something about this 'Banjo' fellow, and that certainly could not be his name, struck Leif as utterly odd, and it had nothing to do with the fact with the way he spoke nor his general appearance. He just... Was, and being around him was oddly comforting because no longer was Leif the only one who stood out among the crowd. They were all oddities in their own, unique ways, and where as Leif was used to cursing his white pelt and fearing what it may bring, these not-horses seemed to wear their individuality with pride.

Huh.

"... A warm as what?" Leif muttered softly beneath his breath, bewildered. Piss? Had he understood correctly? Still, this Banjo fellow mentioned something that immediately caught the white stag's attention, his oval ears flicking forward to listen with genuine curiosity. A herd? "It's grand to meet you as well, Stag Banjo."

"Are there many herds here, in... In Helovia?" The word was still terribly strange to say, and briefly Leif wondered if he'd ever get acclimated to saying it. Then again... Who was to say that he would even remain here? "I... Am looking for a place to settle, a place to call home. Is there a place like that in this Helovia?"

So much was happening, changes and new things that normally Leif would have turned tail and ran the other way, but for some reason, despite their oddities, he truly believed that Elspeth, Thranduil and Haldir, nor Banjo had any intentions on harming him. If they did... Wouldn't they have already tried? And while he was no professional at reading others, he did have some experience in that field.