The bay lands a polite distance away, humming contentedly at the warm sand on his hooves. Two of the parrots wing away into the trees, but a medium-sized green bird finds a perch at the base of his neck, toes tangling in his black mane. Keen ears catch the exchange of words as the three - not two – of them come together. Two strangers and one very familiar face, which is why he didn’t ping as a stranger. Brennen gives a quick shake of his own dark wings, twitching them into their proper place folded at his sides, takes an unhurried moment to preen a couple carefully into submission before he walks forward to join the gathering, bright eyes flicking from face to face. He has a quiet little smile for Leilan, before turning a solemn gaze on the others.
The stallion, Wolfbane, has plumage almost as bright as Brennen’s parrot friend, who even now is chattering away quietly atop him, some phrases clearly understandable ( ‘stranger’, ‘stranger’, ‘brother’) and others just birdspeak. The mare, Lepis, is beautiful in a more understated way, with her creams and blue. They know each other, it is clear, but he’s uncertain in what capacity; though certainly he is aware that there is some sort of relationship between Loess and Sylva, what with Sylva’s new King being just recently of Loess. But neither of them is Arthas, and he makes a conscious decisions not to hold their association with the gray against them. “Welcome to Ischia,” he says mildly. “I’m Brennen.”
@[Wolfbane] @[Lepis] @[Leilan] here ya go kids I dunno what this is but it's a gift for you