A single ear rotates atop of his crown, listening the sounds the dark pine forest provided. A breeze whispered through the tops of the pines, a few moaned in protest. Every few minutes a woodpecker would hammer away at the tough bark exterior, trying to make a nest before the frigid chill of winter settled in. Each of the separate species of Tinuvel have adapted to the weather changes, from the frigid temperatures to the short summer. A sigh escapes his lips, but he would not prefer any other island. Tinuvel was his home, and any who resided here with him would have to learn how to adapt as well.
The dark pines begin to thin out, giving way to the clearing, he had not wandered far when he heard his name. He swivels his head in the direction of the voice, Asha. A smile touches his lips, he had not had much time to speak with the mare since her arrival. She seemed to be adapting to life here in the Inlet. He veers from his course and heads towards her, she meets him in the middle. Her velvet nostrils brush his, in a quick exchange of breaths. He follows her gaze as she points towards her sleeping son. Zakhar.
How are you and Zakhar adjusting to the Inlet? His eyes remain on the sleeping form of the colt. He could not help but think of the child's father, and where he must be? Perhaps he did not care to know of his son, or maybe he did. He sighs at the thought.
He focuses his attention on the dappled mare. "I know that this is a personal question, but what circumstances brought you into the commons on that night?" He knew that she could refuse to tell him, but he could feel that he needed to know. If it was protection that she sought out for her and her unborn son, he gladly granted it, but now he had a few questions.