She can't help but stare at him, absorbing his innate charm and charisma. His youthful exhuberance kept bringing her lost daughter to mind and it was only with concious effort that she could push Laoise's beautiful little face from her mind. Thankfully Sigurdr made it very hard for one to linger in melancholy thoughts, as like with most foals, he barely took a breath before blurting the next thought on his mind.

His question about her speckled coat made her laugh openly and heartily, as compared to many back home she was hardly considered spotted at all. In fact, Siobhan hadn't even really had spots until she was a few months old and her baby coat had begun to shed. A fact that her mother had worried over obsessively as if the coloring of her newborn daughter was of utmost importance.

"Because my mother did," she answered simply, a warm smile reappearing on her lips in reaction to his own. Already this small colt had done wonders to make her feel welcome in a very foreign land. "She was spotted like me, only with bigger spots."

Siobhan nods in reaction to his second question, affirming that she did, indeed, have every intention of calling the Ridge home for as long as it would have her. She enjoys his exuberance, and matches his enthusiasm. "A waterfall? You've got to be kidding me, Sigurdr! There's no way you get to have cool birds and a beach and a waterfall."

She doesn't doubt him of course, only attempting to join him in play and to let him continue to feel proud of his home. From her limited experience of it, there was plenty to be proud of. And while she has no problem with the colt showing her around, there is a minor twinge of worry that Bjorn may not approve of the new mare wandering about unattended with his heir. Siobhan hadn't gotten the impression that he would, but she still had only a limited impression of the handsome stallion.

And that wasn't even considering who the colt's mother was. If he was heir, there was a fair likelihood that his dam was some sort of queen, or at least a high ranking favorite, and Siobhan had no intention of making enemies of an over protective momma here.

Her gaze flicks to the edge of the beach where she had last seen her claimer, but her attention is very quickly dragged back to the colt. He'd already made his way partway up the beach and was waiting for her. Snorting away a smothered laugh, she loped to his position and then matched his speed, gesturing to him in answer to his last question.

"Yes, sorry. You can call me Siobhan, unless you have a better nickname for me." She teases at the end, flicking her tail toward his smaller body.