Obedient standing to attention, the twin towers atop his crown captured everything the mare spoke, of her memory loss, and of another mare, a soldier, Tares. The name rang a bell within him, he felt like he should have known this name – of course he should have, he was General. The herd was growing swiftly however, he had remained nothing more than a dark figure watching over the borders from the skies. But that was why he was mingling now, with his Soldiers, to convey that he wanted to know of these sorts of things, to be given the news of their days whenever they could give it to him.

Aure spoke of a condition afflicting her memory, which did give the stallion pause for momentary concern. What if the Throat trained her up as an apt fighter, and she forgot which side to fight against? But he was more than willing to give shot, and would do whatever he could to aid her in holding onto her memories. She seemed otherwise like a pleasant creature, polite, if a little skittish at times – but he supposed that was to be expected when one could not always recall to whom they were speaking to, or what realm they were standing upon. Midas spoke words similar to what he was feeling, words that were meant to reassure her that they would help her achieve what she might have previously thought unachievable. Azzuen nodded with approval.

A kind smile came upon his visage as she questioned what title to call him. He was proud of his title of General, but didn’t deem it necessary that everyone call him by such, especially those he considered friends. “General or Azzuen is fine, I will gladly respond to both.” He answered warmly, watching as nerves over the interaction shook the femme. He stepped towards her, footfalls soft, posture calm and comforting, not forcing the nearness but neither letting her step away. He could see that she had some developing to do, and he was helping her get there, in his own way.

“To help you remember us, we could try an exercise, if you would like.” A small, almost mischievous grin smirked its way across his maw. Without waiting for permission (which was a bad habit of his) he called upon his magic to stir the senses of the mare’s nostrils, to enhance and heighten her sense of smell. His eyes whirled a steady aqua as he did so, amusement lingering behind them. “Take a deep breath, through your nose – though I probably mostly smell like sweat and desert – clutch onto our scents, store them away. Put all your focus onto those scents, and know that they are the scents of your allies, your friends, your extended family.”

Little did the stallion know that she was in fact his niece-in-law, given her relationship with his yet-to-be-met niece, Tares. Such things would be revealed sooner or later, however. Once several breaths had passed, Azzuen summoned his magic to return to him, slightly annoyed at the effort it took to control his usually effortless gifts. “As for meeting the rest of the herd, I will be calling a gathering of the current soldiers in the near future, where we will discuss the matter of Patrols and training exercises to ensure we are all fighting fit.” Though Azzuen was a fit, energetic athlete, he knew not all trained as assiduously as he, and it was his job, of course, to ensure that they did.

“If there is anything you ever wish to tell me, I am always willing to listen.”