A wanderer, eh? Lunero pressed his lips together and resisted the urge to chuckle at the coincidence. He was no wanderer, of course - not at heart, anyway. Lunero preferred the comforts of a home, of having roots deep in the earth. His family back on Brightwater Coast had been tight-knit as the bones of a skeleton, and he might never have left them had a wanderer just like Ernesto not passed through the area one day.
There was just something about roving bachelors that he found impossibly attractive, and Lunero could not help but wonder if Ernesto had been part of one of the bachelor clans that wandered through his homeland. What if Ernesto had been part of the same group that Casimiro had come from? What an even stranger coincidence that would be.
“It is usual in my family,” he replied to his companion’s first question, “for every foal to carry their mother’s name and the place of their birth. It is a… Oh, how is it called…?” His hazel eyes searched the skies for the answer but came up empty. “Una formalidad es lo que quiero decir. To be used when meeting strangers.”
He offered Ernesto a mischievous smile. “And I’ve not been here long either, no, señor. I came from the mainland as well - a little place called Costa Agua Brillante, as you may have guessed. I do not suppose it rings any bells for you...?”
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