The rhythmic fall of each heavy hoof beat across the green earth, the sound dampened by the cushion of grass and bramble that lay between Rhaego and the stranger standing in the shade of the fruit tree. The stallion is tensed with alert curiosity and in preparation to attack and to defend his secluded home if his initial assessment deemed that necessary. Though he quickly began to see and to scent as he closed the distance between them that his guest was of the fairer sex. Almost instantly upon that realization, the burly brute relaxes only in the sense that he is no longer braced for a fight. However, his interest was only piqued that much more by the fact that there was an unfamiliar mare in his territory.

He lifts his chin slightly, shaking his ivory-streaked forelock further to the side when he came to a halt, only a short distance from the mare. His deep mahogany gaze widens as he takes in the unexpected sight of the feathered wings gracing her withers. He blinked at first, almost thinking that some great white bird rested across her back. Who would allow a bird that large to do such a thing? The stallion pinned his ears at even entertaining the thought and snorted absently, quickly dismissing the idea as he came to fully grasp that the great wings were hers. Of course he'd heard whisperings and gossip that such equines existed with unnatural traits - wings, horns, control of the elements, and such - but until now he did not dare believe that such tales were true.

Now, Rhaego is intrigued and distracted by the easy movement of the mare's wings as she shifts them to fold against her sides; and he fails to notice the dun's own gently pinned ears and the fiery light in her eyes as she likewise studies him with keen attention. He stood proudly, in an open stance, with no attempt to hide the bulk or brawn that lent him his confidence and the respect he'd earned from many of the horses he'd encountered in his life. His proud and entitled nature (and likewise posture) came to him as easily as breathing, for it was just simply who he was.

His eyes furrow and flicker to the overo's face when she speaks a reply. Subsequently, he glances at her figure once again - for the first time really and truly seeing the dirt, the tangles, and the slightly thin appearance - yet despite her travel-weary looks and the multitude of scars across her pelt, she was still very easy on the eyes, particularly his. Rhaego had always been drawn more towards the mares with lots of white - flash and chrome. He liked the exotic roans, brindles, dapples and such, but they simply did not have the same appeal to him without the markings and the splashes of clean ivory. With a little rest and some time to recover from her travels, Rhaego was sure that the painted mare would look even better. And the wings! Though he wasn't entirely sure what he thought of them just yet, they only made the mare all the more exotic and rare in his mind.

The stallion whuffs and he narrows his eyes minutely upon hers and holding them squarely, accepting her boldness as a silent, unspoken challenge of dominance and willpower - one that he almost always won and one that he intended to win now. He wouldn't have some headstrong mare think that she held any control over him and did not plan to look away until she did, to prove that. He answers her now, not moving his dark steely gaze from hers. "Stop traveling, then." Problem solved. The answer was plain to the stallion - if traveling was too difficult, then don't do it. Simple as that. And even better yet, it benefitted him and his young herdland. "Stay and enjoy the Dale. Rest. Eat." His guttural voice offered smoothly, only it wasn't so much an offer as it was a statement spoken with such certainty that it would be clear that he didn't intend to see her leave. "That's how you can pay your debt..."