Roland watched their exchange in silence, sapphire gaze flicking in between the two mares. They seemed absorbed in their own conversation, and he wasn't about to interrupt, though curiosity kept him listening in. The stallion's forehead creased in confusion as he heard Cal refer to the palomino as 'Spe-shul', but he asked no questions. It couldn't truly be her name, but he didn't blame her for not wanting to give her title freely. She could lie just as easily as she could divulge her true identity, and it wouldn't make a difference; he knew all about that. He was used to mistrusting those he met, challenging every word they spoke. To him, everything must wear a disguise in order to be real.

He nodded in concurrence to Cal's comment, casting a glance across the meadow, purple thistles bending in the warm breeze. He did not lament the passing of Birdsong, or the dreary weather it came with. A warm sunny day was a welcome change. At first Roland didn't know she was addressing him when Cal next spoke, adjusting her leg beneath her weight, wings lifting. His ears perked as he looked at her, squirming uncomfortably. He was unwilling to give out his identity, though there was no cause for them to recognize him or know of his past. He doubted they could see through his amiable exterior to the rotten core beneath, sodden with manipulation and selfishness; but he was used to being wary. It took a moment for him to reply, weighing his options with a straight face, but he disguised the silence as best he could.

"Ah... my name is Roland." He settled on the truth, for what harm could it do when no one yet knew his face in this strange land? What could they could do to him? He hoped they wouldn't notice the interjection before he truly spoke, as if hesitating to think. Though a skilled actor when he needed to be, he had let his guard down in the company of the two elderly mares, feeling relaxed and comfortable with the sun warming his skin. It reminded him of his childhood; growing up in the company and care of short tempered nags, surrounded by other foals. Life as an orphan had not been easy; he had never learned what true companionship and trust felt like. Perhaps there was the smallest inkling of that here, where he felt unthreatened by the pair, and was content to remain in their company, enjoying it as he had rarely had the chance to do.

His gaze turned to the palomino as her slender legs buckled, lowering her skeletal frame onto the grassy turf. Roland suddenly felt very tall, standing above them, one hidden by shade while the other lay in the open beneath the beaming sun. "Do you belong to a herd?" He asked, prodding them for information discretely, though it seemed to be merely polite interest. His gaze lingered on the tawny mare, though he addressed them both. He had only been in Helovia for little more than a day, and he had yet to gain his bearings. Perhaps he was nearby the herd that Lena had told him of, the Aurora Basin, though he assumed he was not far enough north.


walk walk walk
"talk talk talk"