His name; somehow, he heard his name when nothing else had broken through his heavy thoughts. Ears flicking, the painted stallion turned his head and looked over to see the blue roan mare standing there staring at him. In some ways she reminded him of a doe; both flighty yet such kindness lingering in the depths. His golden eyes only held hers briefly before he looked away, his muscles stiff as he finally moved.
“Evanescence, I didn’t expect to see you here.” He greeted, turning so that he was standing facing her. His mane was disheveled; tossed stiffly on both sides of his neck in knotted dread locks from the salt that still lingered. His tail was not in any better shape, hanging limply at his hocks where it touched the ground. But Ruger still managed to hold his head up a bit, his gaze sweeping over her body now. The only marks upon her that he could see were old ones she had always bore. “I’m glad to see Requiem seems to be taking care of you.” There was no sort of bitterness to his voice, although his pride was wounded for having lost to such a young stallion. He remembered being that age though; Ruger had not detected any of the venomous intents that the painted stallion had once carried at that age. It had been a solid battle with no ill intent behind it.
A slight frown touched his two-toned features, clear confusion upon his face for a brief moment before it was washed away. No emotion lingered too long on his face; to have any at all was a battle he had fought since escaping the clutches of his father. “Why are you not with your stallion?” he asked.