The palomino stood, ivory rimmed pools drifting over the pale filly's bodice. She was no newborn foal, but a quickly maturing femme. Still, one so young would normally have a parent in tow. Again, Leander found himself searching for a foal's parents, only to be met with a relatively empty wood. Not so long ago he had found an even younger filly, much smaller than the one before him now, that had been orphaned. He only had a split second to hope that this child was not in the same situation, but alas, it was in vain.

Another young one alone in the world. And in the midst of a terrible Frostfall, no less. His profile fell into a concerned frown as he watched emotion pass Nefertari's face. How did this little one survive so long without her dam or sire? It was miraculous, invoking a deep sense of respect for the resiliency of the pearly fawn. "I'm sorry for your loss, Nefertari. Your last few months here must have been very difficult." His chords had lost most of the happiness they held before, now only holding sympathy and warmth for her predicament. "You would be more than welcome in my herd, the Dragon's Throat, if you would like companionship and a place to call your own." Gently, the tawny stallion took a step closer to her, his own massive mahogany wings folded neatly against his back. He wondered why and how her parents had disappeared, especially in such a harsh time of year. He felt strongly for the foal; the innate fatherly streak in his nature rising. He had not sired any foals of his own yet, and with his heart set on the almost impossible love of Faelene, he wasn't sure he ever would. A weary, sorrowful sigh left his lips, just as the filly let out a harmonic chime of her own. It was a beautiful sound, and the stallion wondered how such a troubled child could still sing so perfectly.

Suddenly, a rustling of snow signaled the entrance of another. Leander raised his eyes to the sight of a silvery, gold marred brute alongside a small dragon. The stranger smelled of the Qian, and a short wave of relief washed through his chest. He did not have the patience to sit through another conversation with any rude members of the Foothills, that was for sure. "Greetings. Everything seems to be alright here, except for this little beauty's sad predicament." He shot an empathetic smile to the small maiden, before looking back at the grullo. "I am Leander, a warrior of the Throat. I believe I fought with your side against Mauja and his group not so long ago." He spoke to the equine male with careful friendliness, half-expecting this stallion to be as condescending as some of the other recruiters often were. Hopefully the Qian and it's members still held the Throat in high esteem, especially after they helped them gain a homeland. Scabbing wounds still lingered over his own golden pelt from the recent battle. With some pride, he remembered the moment he dove out of the sky, barreling right into the Unicorn tyrant himself.