Tarrant cast a curious eye toward the direction he knew the Ridge to be and then back to the buckskin that stood in front of him. The initial worry for a brown mare he didn’t know was soon to leave him as his random visitor continued talking. Ah, awkward. Tarrant’s hooves shifted in the sand and he blew a low breath of air before offering a small nod of acknowledgement to the name and title he was given. “Well met, Kasabian.” At least if this stallion of the Ridge had not known Sahin they were likely not friends. It would have been horrible to be faced with a friend only to share the news Tarrant had to tell.

“I’m afraid Sahin is no longer here,” he started, “or his scent is stale, at least.” The scent of two stallions had lingered in the jungles surrounding Paradise but both scents seemed faint. “I’m the new lead here,” he said, “the name’s Tarrant.” Briefly he wondered if Sahin was the name of Sokka’s father, the colt that had asked to stay in Paradise until his father returned. “I – uh – I hope Sahin wasn’t a friend of yours or anything?”

He hated to drag the conversation onward if Kasabian was worried after the mare he’d been looking for. Tarrant figured if he wanted to run off and end the conversation now, Kasabian would probably excuse himself. This was a good chance to get to know his neighbor, it seemed. “How’re things over at the Ridge?”