Meadow

Jaxon's dark eyes drink in the foreigners chiseled features, from their strangely curved ears to the dark eyes that bore into his soul. "She is a peculiar one, Jax. The voice points out. Jaxon nods his thick head in agreement with the voice. "Ye' brothe' sure is." His voice deep as it exits his dark lips. A single ear rotates toward the mare as she makes a small noise in her throat. It seems to him, that she must certainly have better ways of taking care of scabs, just by the way she eyes him critically.

No, is all she replies to his question. A talkative woman she was. "The meado'? Nah, I liv' in the Lagoon." He offers simply. He answers her question, than he turns the conversation back on them. "Do yo' two hav' names?" He questions the pair. They were peculiar, he thinks. It was strange how the stallion stands behind the mare as if afraid to lose his tongue if he utters one word. She must beat him. The voice offers, as if that was a proper answer to his question.

It seems to Jaxon that all types of men and women find their way to these Islands, at least that was his experience so far.