He is not a bad looking male, he knows. He has been the subject of stares plenty enough to not be deluded into thinking he is ugly, in any case, and it seemed that the one who brought him here only took those with a significant appearance anyway. He didn’t have to be haughty or vain to know truth through proof. It didn’t mean that many spent any time putting use to that beauty, though. In fact, it was one of the things that irritated his mother about him. No ambition to match his beauty.

When he turns to look at the approaching individual, he catches sight of a mare he had not seen before but could smell well enough to know she was on of his mistresses. He lowers his head, eyes closing, offering the respect his incarceration insisted she was due. "Don't mind me, I'm not here to make your lady jealous." She says, and he opens his eyes and looks at her with a calm, neutral expression of peace. "I serve at the whim and mercy of all the ladies of the Peak. I have no lady to claim me."

He looks at the wild coloration of this particular mare and admires her stoicism, or perhaps her distance. The women of the Peak tended towards this type and he had always been quite intrigued by women who did not simply cave to the mentality that was often ascribed to their sex. "I was brought here, supposedly for beauty, by Naydra, however. I do not know if this name matters or means something to you, though."

His ice blue eyes turn away and he returns to his basking, unwilling to infringe on someone elses good rest. Better to make himself less of a hindrance than to be chased out of the springs.