He moved through the threshold of this new land in the same rambling, aimless way had crossed every land for years. With no goals to speak of, no needs but physical ones that could be satisfied most anywhere, Mercurio had made himself an expert in not sticking in one place for too long. He wasn’t a loner, not really… He enjoyed the company of other horses quite a bit; the talk, the distraction, the buzz, was something he craved as much as anyone, but after a certain period of time they would start making demands and having expectations… It was a failing in him (though he would say he was being realistic) that at first sign of any emotional depth, and settling of ones roots, he would shy away like a spooked colt. To Mercutio, it was just saving the trouble, the hurt, to pack it in early and leave long before a relationship or situation could turn sour. He believed they all would in the end, and it would inevitably be his fault.

The grullo giant would be the first to call himself a fuck-up. He could easily trace every bad thing that had ever happened to a point where he had caused it whether it was true or not. Of course, nothing bad had happened in years but that was because he never allowed for the possibility of anything truly good. He had it in him to be good; to be happy and content and kind and loyal and useful but he also had the self-awareness of a nebulous black hole. It was even a mark of his potential for selflessness, that he pulled away for the sake of others, because they didn't deserve to be dragged down by him. Public service announcement: it a kid hears they're not worth shit enough times, eventually they'll believe it. Sometimes the'll never learn any better, never try to.

Mercutio's thoughts were a less grim than the reality of his existence (like I said, lack of self-awareness) and he rolled through the cool afternoon under a canopy of changing leaves in search of his next entertainment. To his mind the would was how it was, and there was no sense in getting his nose out of joint because of it. To be entertained for the short term was the best he could hope for and he was content with that. The sun was out, the air was crisp, and he had a new trail to walk down and so he went where his legs led him. There was an easy athleticism to his movements, and his size gave him a certain gravitas. In the shifting sea of leaves all turning to reds and oranges and browns, the deep blueish hue stood out against the landscape. It was a fine place to be...for now anyway.

Oh, and while the king was looking down—

the jester stole his thorny crown

Mercutio

As lovely as the colors of orangemoon were, Mercutio was always a little saddened to see them; they foretold tho coming of frostfall, and though the cyclical seasons could always be relied upon to come and go in their own due time, the stud found that one to be a particular bother. It wasn’t so much the cold he despised, that with his thick blood he could handle well enough but there was something about the world under a blanket of snow that was too quiet, to lonely for his liking. No, he much preferred the chirp of birdsong, the thrum of tallsun and the rustle of orangemoon, anything with life and noise and vitality; he’d never been able to handle stillness, it was too easy to feel lonesome when all around you was quiet.

A voice calls out to him, bright and merry, through the trees and his easy smile breaks across his face at the sound. broad hooves grind themselves to a halt, sending the pointed stone at his throat swinging on it’s silver chain. It’d been a while since his last sighting of another living soul and he wouldn’t mind the company, especially if it came in the form of the sweet looking mare coming towards him.

She was a tiny thing, but pretty as a gem with a voice to match and he sent her a broad smile. ”It's a pleasure, Zayanya. Though by Helovia you must mean heaven for as I live and breath here’s an angel before me.” His voice was deep, forming slowly from his chest into a relaxed tone. There wasn’t any guile in his voice, no motive in the compliments he doled out unless to see a pretty face smile and where was the harm in that. He’d never had an issue with being charming, it came naturally and as it never did any harm he didn’t see why not. He would have sent the little doll of a mare a wink to(thinking it would make her smile) but before he did someone was crashing through the brush and nearly knocking into her. Mercurio, tensed, ready to step in but the pegasus righted himself and murmured an apology and so the unicorn let himself easy back to his friendly greetings.

The new stallion was a strange study in contrasts: tall and handsome, a pristine creature of white and gold but slashed across the chest with a scar he would have though more suited to a grizzled old warrior. The wings were a novelty too, not unheard of where he’d come from but rare enough he’d only met around half a dozen pegasai in his life. “Ah! But here’s another angel, and a winged one at that! It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance Cera—and you, Miss Ilaria. ” and it was Cera that got the roguish wink his appearance had forestalled. “I am Mercutio,” He said with a gallant bow to his trio of welcomers. “As you’ve both welcomed me so graciously, I can only assume that Helovia is where we are, but I’m afraid beyond that I am a complete novice.” He grinned down at Zayanya, “I do believe you said something about a Basin, i tack it that’s part of this Helovia too?”

Oh, and while the king was looking down—

the jester stole his thorny crown

Mercutio

The little red panda seemed well pleased and that made the grey man smile in earnest. That was precisely why he traded so often in simple compliments and gallantries: to see the little surge in pride or flush of pleasure on another’s face was its own reward. Sure enough, the panda did not disappoint and nor did her companion. It would have been one thing if the gold patched stallion had seemed uncomfortable or angry at the casual remark (or the wink). Mercutio was quite used to brusque answers and angry brush offs when it came to other’s who didn’t share his broad tastes. He simply didn’t let it bother him. Nine times out of ten his flirtatious bent had no real motive behind it, it was simply his nature, to entertain and find things that entertained.

Mercutio’s mirthful amber eyes watched as Cera’s gaze dropped, as he shuffled and seemed to hug himself tight with his wings. For the span of a heartbeat he though that the gold might chafe at the attention but instead he smiled shyly and Mercutio realized that Cera was merely bashful. It was immeasurably endearing. Still, since there was other company he thought it better not to push it, to much and he was certain that Cera’s wings might swallow him entirely.

Full of sympathy (for he himself had not always been so cavalier) the bearded stud took a metaphorical step back, aiming his manner more towards amiable that provocative. He cocked one of his hind legs to fall into a more relaxed pose, his dark face alert and attentive, ready to hear a bit about where he was and where he might go. The easy manner wavered however, when his gaze fell back to Zyanya and saw that her lovely eyes had filled with tears.

Internally he panicked, at once certain that he had done something to offend her. The pillars of his ears twisted and fell back, his face falling a look of concern but Cera had spotted her distress and had already asked her if she was alright before he could utter a word. (Cute and Kind? It had never been a combination Mercurio could resist with ease). He followed, cautiously with his own self deprecating smile “Now there, dear heart, I did never mean to upset you. I’m afraid I’m all mirth and no matter, but you shouldn’t take it to heart.” It was the best he could do as far as offering comfort. Even if he had known what had upset her, he’d never had much practice as a counselor… A jester, maybe, but that was as far as his comfort zone stretched.

He couldn’t help but be grateful when both surged on, leaving (or trying to leave) the moment of unpleasantness behind them. Perking up again, he gave both the mare and the other stallion due attention as they did their part in explaining the basic lay of the land. The four headlands were not particularly of any permanent interest--what herd would want him after all?--but he had enough curiosity to at least try and see all the new places even if he didn’t stay in them.

It was Cera’s last comment that cast a look of earnest surprise on his features. Lo and behold the bashful prince had his own stores of playful wit! Mercutio’s brow arched, admittedly thrown for a moment before his face broke. His bark of laughter, wasn’t cruel or harsh but rich and obviously appreciative. There was such an honest glow of naive charm about the pegasus that the unicorn was rendered all but helpless. He was drawn in, like a bee to a flower, and never thinking himself in danger of stinging yet didn’t see the harm in buzzing around…not if the flower seemed to enjoy it. “You’d find me a poor addition to a herd, I’m afraid, I’ve got wandering feet and have never managed yet to make myself useful!” He dipped his head graciously to Zyanya. “I’m sure your home is quite a jewel, but as the days were getting cooler I was already heading south. Perhaps I could visit the Basin and see for it myself in a season is more forgiving? On  the whole I’ll stick to the wilds and keep myself from being a nuisance, but perhaps Cera and Ilaria will consent to being my temporary tour guides?” His grin found the other pair again “If it’s not too much trouble…”

Oh, and while the king was looking down—

the jester stole his thorny crown

Mercutio