Even in the middle of the night, with little more than the stirrings of small nocturnal animals reminding the stallion of the late hour, he was still aware of the herd and their location. Often they could be tracked through the trees by following small snippets of hair that had become knotted and caught upon tree branches, or but the twigs that had been broken underfoot or pushed away by tired mares dragging their feet before they went to sleep for the night. Tonight, he can tell by the musty stink in the air that they had recently passed through here, no doubt settling in the small clearing that had recently become their favorite haunt, just beyond the trees and past one of the few rivers that cut it's way through the forest.

He is glad to find himself back in the forest with the dark, silvery mare, having found that she had come willingly and without struggle. Vercingetorix would not have been happy with himself if he were to drag her here by force, and the thought of placing her teeth upon her skin (though once more, tantalizing to the point of torture) is not a thought that he wishes to become reality.

The girl does not seem to be oblivious to why they have come here, and calmly stands near him, smalling an illusive and mysterious little smile at his words. Letting his eyes settle on her dark lips for a moment or two, he leans towards her again, pausing at she speaks up. It was true, they were complete strangers that had run into the sea and found themselves back at his doorstep, and she knew this as well as he did. “You're right.” Vercingetorix agrees, his dark eyes still settled upon her lips as she speaks her name. Daedra. It is a strong sounding name, and he likes it- perhaps almost as much as he fancied his own name.

“Vercingetorix.” He is proud of his name, even if his damned father had placed it on his shoulders, and even if he was certain that it had some crude, and ill-gotten meaning, it suited him well.

stallion, red dun, crossbreed, fifteen and one hands, russell.