Crow is grateful to see her relax as the tension lowers from her shoulders. It was only fair of her to be worried around him, all things considered, but he sought only conversation from her now that it was clear that she was not here to pose a threat to the Desert herd. Her first comment earns a chuckle as he can certainly understand her point. She was obviously bred to excel in the heat of the desert, her figure composed of fine lines and beauty; he could not picture her in the bitter grasp of Tinuvel or even the cloying jungles of Atlantis.

Not that looks or breeding meant overly much in the end. He too shared the light bones and glittering sheen of Marwari ancestors, but where she was small and elegant, he was awkward and lean. Crow fit into the desert, not because it was as natural to him as it was for her, but because nothing else fit him either.

Well, that and he liked the heat.

Thus he is not surprised when she indicates that Salem is her homeland and he acknowledges it with a grin befre following the dip of her eyes to the ground. He does not know what lurks there that has so transfixed her, but the unease on her face is clear and he scans the ground for anything that may pose a threat to them. Nothing jumps out at him, but he'd heard enough of snakes and scorpions and the various other dangers that linger in the sand to know that the danger may not be obvious.

As if reading his mind, the spotted girl hastens to assure him that there is no one following her. A thoughtful purse of his lips accompanies a crease in his brow as he considers this. The way she phrases it makes him think that she has escaped something, though whether this is a concern he should involve himself in or not is of some debate. He does not know Cain's politics, and does not want to upset the balance of Salem, but he is also uncomfortable with the thought of the mare returning back home to somewhere she is unhappy.

He is almost immediately sidetracked from the reply that he is crafting by her declaration of her near-death experience and his ears flick back momentarily before reorienting towards her. "Well, I must selfishly admit that I am glad the fates failed that day."

A smile dances across his lips and he ducks his eyes away from her momentarily, surprised at the boldness with which he had uttered them. Skipping past it, he mentally flails for the next best topic to bring up and eventually latches onto his earlier assessment of her would-be followers.

Crow clears his throat and meets her gaze again. "We can move away, if it it would be better for you. And perhaps you could tell me more of your herd."

After he shifts a step away, he belatedly realizes he's not even bothered to introduce himself. "Forgive my manners, I don't normally spend much time around pretty mares these days. I'm Scarecrow, but you can call me Crow if it's easier."