He hasn’t been to the Common in months - not since bringing Mirage back to the Badlands. She had settled in well, a much-needed addition to his herd, a level-headed perspective. There had been too much turmoil within the Badlands to even consider introducing an unknown element. But now, things have settled - or, at least, they have settled as much as he thinks they ever will. Rafe is hopeful that this will be more similar to Mae or Mirage, instead of Viveka. It is unfortunate that the first chance he’s had to go back is in the height of winter, but it is what it is.
He left Salem for the Crossing isle, coming up through the Lagoon so he’s dry (and mildly frozen) by the time he crosses into the Commons. It’s empty, few equines lingering about alone or in small groups. It makes sense why - the wind is bitter, snow covers the ground and the forage is scarce. His coat is thin from his time on Salem, and Rafe flicks his ears back before grimacing against the cold. Well, at least it is shaping up to be a quick trip. He glances around the empty, open area and finally settles on a stout, pretty red mare. She’s no fine-lined, delicate thing but built more like him - hardy, and well equipped for life on Salem. Even better, she is alone.
Rafe approaches quickly, stopping a polite distance back. He has learned that it is remarkably common here to bite a mare to claim them - he’s never understood the custom. Perhaps simply because where he comes from, it isn’t practiced, but Rafe has no intention of drawing blood from one of his own mares. He’s not needed teeth to take any of his herd home yet, and he is confident that won’t change. “Hello,” he murmurs, eyes slipping over her appreciatively. No point in asking what she’s doing here, in drawing out the small talk when they both know the reality of this world, the reality of being here.