"To all the Peak mares you say?" She seems amused by him, for now at least. He supposed when he labeled himself as unclaimed by any of the women of the Peak in formality, it was understandable. He figured she must wonder after what about him was so damaged as to remain unclaimed - but then he hadn’t investigated the laws or rules of the place he lived - only its climes and the various rules that told him the appropriate expectations to have as a trinket of this place. "I know the name as she is one of my sisters, but I do not know her personally."

She approaches, but he does not move - neither to nor away. It was her right to do as she saw fit. He could only amiably allow her whatever investigative looking that she wished. He does not sneak glances, having seen her fully on her wading into the hot spring, the only obscuring force being the steam that even now frilled his already creamy figure in further mystery. "But you paint an interesting picture of her. Tell me, does she give you much attention?"

"She sometimes comes to admire me, though she has given no hint for use of me beyond pride of acquisition." He dismisses the idea, visibly even, as she had never done much more than admire. No flirtations - just about the same covetous pride in having a pretty thing as a crow might hold for a shiny rock or a colorful leaf. "I am only aware of her desire for me to be here, to admire me from time to time." He turns to the other mare now, careful not to stand full frontal before her. "It is her right to do so, and I do not ask for her intention outside of that. I imagine whatever anyone wills of me is mine to obey, being that being a trinket doesn’t sound terribly much more than something to collect and use when it suits."

His mane has begun to sink against him with the wet air, the steam beading on his hide. "I am called Nomius. May I ask your name?"