Rhaego is at an impasse; torn between his confusion and his frustration with the pretty little mare with the apple blossom tail. What led her to such obsession that she believed the trees were actually anything more than trees? He'd seen a few mares who enjoyed adorning their manes with fragrant blooms, but never had he seen anything to this magnitude. Her tail was absolutely full of them! He stares, still even after the initial shock has wore off, still trying to decide what level of crazy she was on. He snorts angrily and takes an intimidating step foward when the mare shouts, losing her own temper with him. Rhaego thinks the accent that was so much more evident when she grew angry was odd but he barely gave it a second thought, again chalking it up to the myriad of strange things that he'd learned about her so far.

The stallion is prepared to meet her with aggression and with a fight if it comes to that, but suddenly the appaloosa spotted mare turns her attention to the little sapling he'd been using as a scratching post and acts as if she is a young foal who has just been scolded by her mother for yelling too loudly. The expression of perplexity that crosses Rhaego's face is priceless as it is in that moment that he is sure that she has utterly lost it. Now she was talking to the tree too?! He regards her warily and with much suspicion when she turns back around to face him, her demeanor entirely different from her outburst just seconds ago. The conviction in her gentler voice was hard to dispute that she believed in what she said, but he remains a skeptic.

He listens to her for a moment, consoling himself that at least she was not bent on attacking him or trying to vow for possession of the Dale and the forest that she felt so protective of. "These people?" He questions rhetorically again, glancing to the trees again, but he does not expect an answer. He was merely expressing his opinion, his skepticism of her theory. Rhaego's ears are still pinned into his ebony and ivory mane when she smiles and he lets one ear lift forward slightly in vague interest, listening as she continues again.

The stocky brute is surprised again by her offer. She was willing to submit to his rule in order to stay here? He still thought of her as a loon, a misguided mare with too strong of an attachment to the trees in his forest. But she was a mare - with a pretty tawny-colored coat with white splashed across her rump, that alone was temptation enough. But added in with the vow of her loyalty and obedience made her offer so much more appealing. He is silent while he appraises her, seeking for any loopholes in her words or weakness in the conviction of her voice. Still contemplating, he steps forward - near enough to hold his head and muzzle alongside hers and whuffs lightly, inhaling her scent. "What you offer is tempting, Aileen." He pauses in momentary surprise, noting that her scent is uniquely that of the Dale; most horses carried a myriad of scents from various lands on them of varying strengths... but Aileen's was purely of the Dale. He recovers himself and continues along his train of thought. "I still do not see what you believe you see in these... trees. But know that I do not intend to see them fall into another's possession or to see them.... vanish. I am not a fool - they are what shelters my mares and helps provide forage for them. And soon they will be where my foals will learn and play." His words are not accusatory, but are steely and firm nonetheless. Perhaps with a little reassurance that he was not one that held no regard whatsoever for the world that provided for them, she would lose some of her crazy talk. Perhaps she would be a half decent mare he wouldn't mind to have around if that were that case. "I'll allow it, on those conditions, and that you tell me what exactly this 'duty' entails... will it interfere with your loyalty to me?"