Weir found himself frequenting the field quite often these days. It was a rather slow process, recruiting more subjects for the Dale, but he stuck to it nonetheless. Though he did not realize, he was perhaps what had made it such a difficult process. Weir knew a great many things, and thus he shared a great many things with others. Even complete strangers. Including when he was supposed to be offering them a home, and not filling their heads with information they were not like to retain.
As is true Weir fashion he makes his way across the field in a slow sightseeing saunter, the summer sun warm and welcome on his back. His amber eyes gaze about lazily almost, taking in many aspects of the terrain and not just the equine themselves. Narrowing in on obscure things. A shiny bit of rock, a striped caterpillar, until finally they find their way back to peeping the field.
He soon spots another new comer, a red and white splashed female, standing alone. Surely she would be needing a place to stay, as most who came here did, and lucky for him he was there to invite her. He is gentle in his approach, his roan pelt already collecting moisture from the heat, but he doesn't seem to mind. His chestnut banner flicks itself, swatting at the incessant buzzing of gnats, the pests retreating for only moments.
He clears his throat before speaking, a gentle erhhm erhhm erhhm, "Hello miss, I am Weir from the Dale. How are you this lovely afternoon?" He had learned from his past attempts, and thought he might start her off slow. Taking time to give his name and engage her in conversation, he gave her a small but polite smile. At least he would try to not overwhelm her right off the bat, but he couldn't make any promises that the conversation wouldn't stray.
