The lean tobiano ghosted across the islands as if he were an echo of his sire, taking up his old habits without knowing who had walked the same steps in the past. The looming election had stolen easy sleep from his routine, and Rehoboam had taken to meandering the Crossing in the hopes of clearing his mind. He knew that the bachelors were looking at him, waiting on him to make a comment as to his intentions, but the choice set before him was an impossible one.
If Tyr vacated the General's seat - something Rehoboam did not necessarily see a problem with, as Tyr had been as committed to the Lagoon's makeover as Reh had been - that left a vacancy in his wake. Whether to promote a young, untried colt who seemed to see no sense or reason in caution or restraint, or to promote a wildcard, who seemed to obey no higher power unless they could beat him into submission was an impossible decision. Both were terrible options, but what other choice did they have?
He would have to decide soon if he was to have any influence on the outcome.
Movement ahead in the gloom caught Reh's attention and he watched the splashed stallion for a moment with quiet interest before deciding to approach. Perhaps he could recruit him to join the brothers... and if not, well, passing a few hours in conversation certainly wouldn't be the worst thing.
"You look like you're fresh to the islands," he said by way of greeting, his lips curling into a polite smile.
"Have you been here long?"