The flighty mare introduces herself, and he files her name away. Luma - pretty, easy to say, easy to remember. But she doesn’t miss his glance around, watching him carefully and just coming out and asking if he’s looking for someone. Well, no use lying. “Yes,” he agrees easily. He has any number of enemies or irritations that may step in. Joachim, Fell, Zevulun, any of the Peak mares or the Lagoon bachelors he so recently rebuffed. They’d responded swiftly, moving along to Marceline and then sniping mares out from under his feet in the Commons. Another irritation to add to the list. Another enemy made, another herd to bring down.
“The Lagoon,” he tells her, settling on the easiest culprit to blame. He hadn’t been familiar with the bachelor herd when he’d first arrived so he adds, drily, “Our resident bachelor herd. They like to…insert themselves. Or steal mares to hold captive as playthings; whatever amuses them most, that day.” Sure, he’s had more issues with the Peak, but since Klara’s rant at Oswin, things have been much simpler on that front. They have not stepped in to bother him again, and he’s not heard a peep from any of the Vulcan mares. He can’t blame Luma for being suspicious; she’s alone in a strange land and his own suspicious glances around, the way he’s clearly on high alert cannot be reassuring. It would be much easier if she would just follow him home. In the Badlands, he can control the environment in a much more efficient manner. “Better to be prepared,” Rafe tells her idly, glancing around again and not even attempting to hide it. “I’d be better able to shelter you from them in my home,” he adds, not even attempting subtlety at this point. “As long as we remain here, you remain vulnerable.”