His ears perk up at the mention of the Forest. “Hey, so we’re a little like neighbors, then,” he says. Kendry has never been into the woods himself— too dark for his tastes, and as he got taller and broader he didn’t see the sense in trying to fit his girth between the trees. He can imagine this smaller stallion had less trouble moving between the trunks though it still confounds him that any horse would choose such a territory to call home.
The perlino’s grin widens at his companion’s offer. “I was actually about to ask. I’ve got room and plenty to spare over there. Maybe the two of us can liven things up a little bit.” He’s glad he went exploring today; it’s very possible the two stallions might never have encountered one another had Kendry remained in the Lagoon.
“Say, what’s your name? I don’t think you’ve told me. Which is fine if you want to keep it to yourself, but then you’ll have to suffer under whatever nickname I give you. No complaining, either.” He smiles as he says it, already running through a list of potential monikers for his new roommate. Spots is too easy, too obvious; Kendry runs his eyes over the appaloosa and notes the cloudy quality of his eyes before lingering on the short tuft of mane running down the length of his neck. The stallion’s hair reminds him of a squat waddling creature he saw when he was a colt, but much softer. Quill then, or maybe Blue Punk.
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