Rehoboam's gaze had gained a sharpness that had not existed into those amber depths before, and he levelled the newly sharpened edge toward his companion with quiet patience. Had the soot-dappled stranger arrived some months ago, before his foolhardy sister had taken up residence in a swampy mire that had never been meant for her, Rehoboam might not have cared what his motives were. As much as the three leaders of the swamp had sworn to abide by the peace brokered between the Peak and the Lagoon, there had been no holding back some from sowing chaos where they pleased. What was one more to join the likes of Frey in undermining everything the brothers were trying to stand for these days?

But Bellona was here, and so Reh was more careful, even if there was nothing he could do to stop this stranger from joining the brothers. It was one of the tobiano's biggest frustrations with how the Lagoon was operated, as it limited at punishment that might ever be handed out by the elected leaders. What use was it having a title if it meant nothing?

A pause stretches between them before the slender stallion answers, his voice neutral despite the malice that Rehoboam can sense in the arrangement of the words themselves. Flashbacks to the fallout that had ensued after Frey had stirred the hornet's nest in the Harbor rose to mind, and he suppressed a frown. For a moment, he wondered what it might be like to be the sort of stallion that could simply do without agonizing over the moral implications of what he'd done. Years separated the stallion that he had been when he had attempted to raid a mare on Luthien from the stallion that he had now become, and yet the moral implications of what he'd done still left him restless some nights.

The underlying challenge came a moment later, and while the tone of his companion remained conversational, Rehoboam was not blind enough to miss the threat.

"That would depend on what you want," Rehoboam said evenly, his deadpan face tilting ever so slightly toward the man as if to acknowledge the lift of his eyebrows for what it was. The tobiano was not the most physically fit of all of the brothers, but he had other ways of getting his point across if that was what it took.

"What is it that you want, nomad?" Not for the first time, the tobiano found himself wishing there was some sort of test or initiation that new arrivals were forced to endure before they could call themselves brother. Anything that might allow the brothers some aspect of control over who they allowed to represent themselves.

But there was not, and Rehoboam had a sinking feeling that more chaos was yet to come.