Just as he had offered her no condolences for her mother, she has offered him none for his parents either. Rather than feel awkward in the silence, he takes comfort in this, hoping it is a sign of mutual understanding. Canta is looking away from her when she accepts his apology; his eyes gaze down through the dim light at his dark grey hooves and trace the shape they make in the sand, over and over, as a small smile touches his lips.

"Have you met any of the others yet?" he asks, and meets her eyes briefly before turning to gaze outwards and peer across the horizon for his herdmates. His family is small still, so it's not too difficult to find the few individual silhouettes illuminated in the moonlight. No doubt they'll be joining them at the oasis soon; this modest paradise, with its shining pool of water, shade, tufts of grass, and the tall boulder at Canta's back which provides a wind block, is where the herd normally spends the night together.

Just the thought of sleep provokes a wide yawn from the dun stallion, but he continues to eye Sova as if she is the one who needs her rest. Which she may well do. "If you're tired, don't worry about being polite. Just tell me to shut my trap and I will." His dark eyes sparkle with good humor.