By now Rufina had taken note of the disappearance of her pesky colt and was quickly backtracking, but she was far enough away that the boy and his father had a few more precious minutes to themselves.

Basil did a happy prance where he stood; this was his papà! Won't mama be proud when I tell her I found him first him. The colt was a wiggling thing of excitement as he watched his father's features, so warm and welcoming to the young boy who was oblivious to the stallions struggles. "Mama calls me Basilio, or Basil for short," he was all too happy to chime with a giggle and then reaches out to push his nose against his Braylen's, taking in the musky scent of his father and committing it to memory.

At this moment Rufina had finally caught up with her wayward son, following his scent and the tracks he had left behind. A scolding was on the tip of her tongue as she pushed into the little area where he and Braylen were, only to become quite tongue-tied when her eyes fall on Braylen first before dropping down to her son who had turned his head at the sound of someone approaching. "Hi mama!," Basil bounds over to her, bouncing on his long legs as he reaches for her mane; his way of greeting her when he knew she didn't like her mane pulled. Blowing out her nostrils she gently pushes her boy to the side and takes a step forward eying Braylen. She had him now, and he certainly wasn't getting away.

"I should yell at you," she begins to say, stalking closer yet looking completely calm as she does so; looks can be deceiving though. Basil looks on with a grin, knowing his papà was getting the scolding that should have gone to himself. "Stupid head", Rufina mutters when she stops in front of Braylen, butting her head at the painted stallion. Basil, being his always cheery self, bounced and giggled with glee at the sight of his parents. He was happy to see his mama not moping around like she did in secret when she thought he was napping. She had missed his papà.