10-08-2017, 12:11 PM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The grullo stallion returns Ivar’s smile, and the young stallion is glad. Judging by appearances was not always a safe task, but it is necessary one here in the Field, when one dopes what Ivar is here to do. The friendly greeting from the other tobiano is a pleasant one, and Ivar repeats the other horse’s name to himself. Vitalo. He does not mind that the other stallion is giving him the once over – he’d done the same thing while approaching, albeit from a distance. It is only responsible to get to know those near you, after all. For a moment the other male is quiet, but he breaks the silence with a question, and Ivar looks up curiously. The scaled horse is nodding before he speaks, a nonverbal conformation that “Yes, I was born here.” He pauses for a moment, and decides that if this stranger is a newcomer to Beqanna, perhaps he’d best clarify. “Well, not here, exactly. But here in Beqanna, yes.” The wind is not with him today, but they are close enough that he can tell that this stranger does not smell of any of the kingdoms (or common lands) of Beqanna. An outsider then; Ivar is immediately curious about what lies beyond the sea. “You’re new here then,” he surmises aloud, “and perhaps looking for a home?” The words are curious , though Ivar does except that he knows the answer. There are always those who would rather wander though, and Ivar does not blame them. There is much to see here, especially for a stranger to Beqanna. |