The gilded mare greets his outstretched muzzle with a touch. A warmth spreads from the point of contact, melting away the chill of winter and making way for the warm tenderness of affection. It is true that procreation is often the result of a loveless physical act, but Kestral has never mounted a mare without his own brand of love. Kestral may not play the romance game like others do, and he may not believe in monogamous love, but every mare he's ever mounted has been special to him in some way. This mare is no exception. He is delighted to see her again, and his delight reads clear in the smile on his lips and the glimmer in his eyes.
It is not the season for breeding, and by the swell of her flank, Kestral knows he won't smell a heat upon her today, but this doesn't disappoint him. A social animal craves the company of others, even in the absence of sexual context. It helps when the company is somewhat familiar. He is eager to get to know this mare beyond the beauty of her figure.
His ears remain pricks forward in rapt attention. His eyes trace the lines of her pretty face. His heart beats a rapid rhythm, remembering their last encounter. "Hello Illusion." He says, dipping his head with a flourish. Strands of snow-white mane play upon the breeze. The stallion then levels a dark and white-rimmed gaze with her own and returns a much shorter introduction. "And I'm Kestral." His is just Kestral. He has no home no affiliation. He carries the lightest load, of only a name. He has no bonds or responsibilities to hold him down. His bones are as light as Keen's and he flies just as free.
"It's a pleasure meeting you again. I hope the Dunes treat you well." Kestral says in all sincerity. "You look well." He admits, appraising her condition. She is lovely. His actions last time should have made his thoughts on the matter clear, if his words don't now. Sides rounded with a foal that might be his certainly suit her.