The golden stag of the old world hears a call across the lands. A summons, his name front and center. With a twist of a sooty ears in the callings general direction, he begins the long trek. Across kingdoms and commonlands alike, he arrives in a dust bowl. The vegetation that remained, clung to the compacted dirt with thin roots. If there had been a foot of snow and thick ice, he would have believed he was back home.
Amber eyes squint through a dusty haze. He comes to stand still as another figure appears. There is a stillness that cradles the atmosphere around them. Two opponents, standing face to face. Neither know the other, or at least this face holds no memories for him. He wonders why his name had been called to this place. What transgressions the strangers holds against him. The wind tosses his dark tresses against his thick hide, but that is the only movement between them. Amber eyes gaze upon the other, a mare. She calls out to him, making her challenge known.
His head tilts in confusion, a friendly battle. Being a warrior of an old kingdom he has come to know no such thing. Battles were ugly. War was destructive. That is why he had left his homeland in the first place.
His weights shifts slightly as he considers her offer, but he cannot bring himself to find reason to engage. Especially with a mare, and unprovoked too, he can only dip his crown. His home, his Queen, his own well being was not threatened. Carefully considered words fall from his lips, "I am sorry. I cannot fight without reason." Bringing his heavied head to dip lower in acceptance of her terms he continues, "I will visit your kingdom as a representative of Sylva and her radiance, Queen Sabra." The golden stallions head rises again to look upon the roaned mare, "If you wish, I can accompany you now?"