He startled her. Well, it's only to be expected with an entrance like that, but it still made ache with guilt to hear her terrified voice and see her scramble to run away. Thank the Moon that Fajira was there and could calm her down. Not for the first time - and hardly for the last - Lace sent a thankful thought to his companion, a mental nudge that came as natural as breathing; and met only silence. He was slowly growing accustomed to the prick of disappointment every time he failed to reach her - in the way you get accustomed to heartache, a thorn in the hoof or a rainy summer.

Outwardly though, nothing of their concerns show. To the eyes of the pretty little girl he is only kind and understanding - and just a little bit exasperated over how foals seemed to love running off on their own. Had he been like that as a kid? Hardly (or so he'd like to think).
"Sorry, I actually have no idea. We haven't been living here at the Edge for very long, you know, and me and Fajira only came to Helovia half a year ago." The stallion looked around as he spoke, noticing for the first time the charred ground and the fire-damaged trees. "If you really want to know what happened, I suggest you go and ask the storyteller. She should know, if anyone."

Half saddened for the sake of the forest, and half curious, he lowered the nose to the ground and nosed the ashes, a hoof scraping away some of the coal-dust to examine the ground beneath. Whatever happened had done some serious damage, but not so much that it had become irreparable. If he reached out his mind to the surroundings, he could feel the life of budding trees within the ground. Little more than seeds still, with a bit of rain and given time, this barren patch of earth would eventually become filled with life. Nourished by the ash, herbs and grasses would grow thick, until trees finally would reclaim the glen.

A thought to help the trees along passed the mind, but Lace soon discarded the thought. Why mend something that wasn't broken? Better let nature take its course, to shape the grove the way it was supposed to be.

Lifting the head back up from the ground, the grulla watched in quiet amusement as his current protégé bounded around the clearing, stirring up dust and grime as she went.
"Were? I am a warrior, you know. Not a ranked one within the herd, granted, but I've been in enough battles to earn the title." A wry grin played on his black lips as he pretended to be offended by her words, puffed up the chest and made himself as impressive looking as he could. "You on the other hand... Aren't you more of a lady? Precious little thing to be protected wherever you go."

The tone was teasing, eyes glittering with mirth as Lace trotted over to the filly, snaked out the head to nip at her rump and then thundered ahead of her with a snickering laugh.

A warrior, huh? No doubt she would have to become one. With a father like hers, and adorned with both wings and budding horn in a world where appearance and race was a topic of much discussion, she was bound to get herself in trouble. The knight had to admit he liked her spunk; it felt nostalgic in a way. Reminded him of Soleil when she was a foal, all energy and bad attitude - this time though, he had a lot more patience. This time, he would be the one to come charging in frothing fury if anyone dared to be rough with this little bundle of sunshine.