The hatchling python is staring into his left eye, head tilted just so, happiness radiating through the stallion’s mind like a warm touch of sunlight across his back on a chill day, only better, the warmth settling into the hollows of his heart and mind instead of his hair and skin. He’s not sure if the wash of emotion is a sign of approval over the newborn’s christening, or simply a result of his acceptance and touch, but he’s fairly certain he’d like it to continue.

This is Helovia however, so immediately a high pitched voice assaults his ears and he lays them flat in response, carefully turning his body around so that he can see the young filly without changing the angle of his head and neck, possibly jostling his newborn companion. Strom’s interest peaks as well, sending him wriggling across the stallion’s face to hang over the opposite side and peer out at this new smell, tongue flicking out and back in to draw as much information as possible from the plains dry air. Albrecht mentally spectates, trying to make sense of a world mapping system completely alien to his own, this one almost entirely dependent on smell and some type of temperature detection system while his is heavily dependent on vision and sound.

Distracted, he ignores the filly’s rapid fire questions until a second little son of a bitch comes strutting up, disapproval and condescension fairly dripping from of his golden pores. Exasperation pins the stallion’s ears even tighter to his skull, but he takes a moment to gently nod his head up and down, encouraging the serpent lying there to migrate upward and find a better place to rest among the base of his horns before turning his full agitation on the intruders.

“What good is anything still reeking of its mother’s womb?” He challenges the colt, pointedly dragging his emerald eyes across the boy’s immature body, currently made of spidery legs and baby fluff where one day there might be muscle and flowing mane if his ugly mouth will let him live that long. He turns to the filly then, remembering her questions as innocent and far less grating on his nerves, but looking between the two with full attention he can’t help but notice the black and white barring along their jaws and the tear tracks running down from their eyes, markings suspiciously similar to that of the Basin’s head Thief. Not only that, but the colt at least must be Tembovu’s, his body markings mimicking the Elephant's perfectly. “So you're what she's been up to.” He scoffs at the pair, always game to insult the Thief's professionalism, if nothing else.



OOC // If his assumptions of their parentage are too god-mody just let me know and I will change! He was too busy feeling sorry for himself at the herd meeting to notice the twins wandering around. @Kiada @Kianzo