SCARECROW

Crow can't help but figuratively raise a brow at the mare's comment. As a normal mare she'd decided to wander about the Commons as a way to ... stretch her legs? What did she thinks he was going to find on this forsaken beach other than homeless creatures in need of a place to go?

He carefully schools his expression to keep this thought internal. Regardless of whether she could take him home or not, the little roan had been a pleasant companion to talk to. It had to be nerve wracking for a mare to approach a strange stallion, especially one as odd looking as him. Whether he looked like a threat or not, Crow was all too familiar with the unspoken dangers a stallion could still pose.

"No, I suppose not," he says midly, pushing a grin to his charcoal lips again. She had a point. Warsaw would probably not take kindly to a masculine stranger waltzing in with his loyal little mare right before fall. Pensively he flicks the straw strands of his tail across his hocks again and casts his eyes back to the edges of the Commons.

A new stranger has appeared and seems to be making his way toward the small group. Crow watches him approach with mild curiosity, his amber eyes studying the figure of the new stallion. It was almost comical to compare the two stallions. While they stood within a few inches of each other, they were vastly different in figure. Even fully nourished and healthy, Crow was slender and lithe, meant for speed and showiness. The new arrival was solidly built, as though he could both handle and dish a fair about of physical abuse.

It'd be intimidating if Crow had enough sense to be afraid.

He doubted, however, that anyone could mistake the ribby figure of Crow for a threat, even if the tobiano somehow had it in his head to try and claim Neon. She couldn't be taken, as evidenced by the scent of Warsaw all over her skin, but from a distance one wouldn't know that.

Scarecrow returned the stallion's greeting as he joined, his attention focused on Cain as he makes his case. Crow wasn't really in a position to be picky, but he had to admit that the sound of a land that was warm sounded delicious. Like a lizard under a sunlamp, he could imagine spending his days just soaking up the heat. He tilts his head slightly toward the painted male, a genuine smile curving his lips.

"I thought you'd never ask," he says flippantly, pleased laughter threading into his voice. "I think I might just take you up on that offer. I've never seen a desert, but I'd like to."

He turns his attention back to the little roan mare with another bow of his head. "Not that it hasn't been a pleasure talking to you, little lady." He pauses for a moment, considering. Eventually he offers a final bit of advice, not wanting her to be punished for this little escapade. Crow doesn't know Warsaw well enough to know if he would harm the little roan for her decisions, but he finds himself strangely fond of her. "Mightn't want to mention our little meeting to your boy. I'm not sure Warsaw would take kindly to me getting to know you."

He turns then to Cain with another tilt of his head, an indication that it was his lead as to whether he wanted to continue the conversation here or at the Desert.