Common

This strange newcomer reminds him of his older brother, and that’s the only reason Rafe can come up with for why he’s stuck around instead of heading home or looking for a pretty mare to tempt back with him. They’re quiet, thoughtful, and clearly bothered by the harsh treatment of strangers even when it has no direct effect, and all Rafe can think of is Gethin. Hehad never really cared for him, not the way his mother and sister had, but alone on these islands he’s even caught himself missing Scar who was insufferable at the best of times and violently dangerous as a general rule. Rafe snorts in amusement at the murmured comment about it being rude, but doesn’t offer anything further right away. He has little room to talk about the entire scene playing out across the field, after all, because he is guilty of marching Viveka out of here in much the same way only a few short days ago. It was perhaps a bit rude, but it seems to be the way to build herds here. Perhaps honeyed words after the claim to make it sting less, but that is effort and Rafe tends to subscribe to the philosophy that the shortest path with the least amount of work is the best to get what you want. “It’s the way of things here,” Rafe finally settles on. “It was a shock to me as well.” Of course, he adapted quickly and he’s perfectly comfortable to follow whatever social mores he can take advantage of. There’s little benefit to worrying how something happens if he gets the desired result.

It’s a relief when the stranger offers their name, so that Rafe can have a better way to think of them instead of variations of ‘the stranger’. “I’m Rafe,” he offers in return, and then laughs when he’s advised to change the name of his home. “I’ll lie about a great many things,” Rafe murmurs, “But I figure anyone who willingly ventures to Salem knows what they’re getting from it.” He’s still of the opinion that warm, dry and near-barren is better than frozen solid and snowing for all but a few short months of the year, but knows not everyone shares his opinion. His new home does have an appeal to it, the wide-open desert spread as far as one can see creates an overwhelming sight, especially at night when the sky goes dark and is graced by countless stars. Where the earth breaks into the massive, stripped mountains and cliffs that dominate the center of his home there is a harsh, rugged beauty. The small lake and the seeping springs that feed it keep the basin of his home green enough, and Rafe has found the scrub that dots the mountain sides to be especially filling. Certainly harder to eke out an existence than on somewhere like Atlantis, but it hasn’t been an issue so far.

He’s pleased to hear Laika accept, and intensely intrigued by the comment about swimming. Maybe Laika came from where he did? Regardless of where the journey began, Rafe has realized that most every equine here is an import. Those that are younger were born on the isles, but more commonly he seems to come across those who washed up, just like he did. Whatever the draw of this place, whatever the reason, he supposes his banishment could have had a worse start. Rafe is even more pleased when they mention they’ll continue on to the Falls; less risk of being herded away and forced along out of reach. “Of course,” Rafe agrees. “The offer remains open. Salem is to the South, and the Badlands are the northwest most point of the isle.”