The stranger doesn't run which is enough to give the cob pause; enough time to collect himself, swallow down his fury enough to hear the answer to his not-question. He can't really say Ruxin's admittance is a revelation; he'd run into blessedly few since his arrival here but No is also well aware of the fact that his brand of standoffishness was a trait distinct to pretty much only himself. The younger stallion's return question has the cob cocking his head, gaze turning up and down the beach. It's nothing like Eirhelm; tropical where his old home had been temperate...and temperamental, the older stallion huffing out a breath that could have been a laugh as he turned his gaze back to the paint. "Not yet." he answers truthfully because he doesn't know the customs of this land and is not willing to assume that just because he has not run into anyone yet means he wont eventually. Which gives him a thought, head cocking as he levels a more considering glance Ruxin's way. "Don't you?" His question implied that he didn't which would make them both interlopers.