Letavice was near the shore, grazing not far from from his spotted mother, when he heard a bit of commotion in the distance. He raised his grey head, his blue eyes looking out into the distance as he casually chewed what was left of the long, wispy sea grasses in his mouth. Vita Nova, too, raised her dished face. Her ears flicked forward and back as she took in the scents of those who may be mingling with Warsaw, and rolled her eyes. Letavice scoffed a laugh to himself at her disinterest. But then surprisingly, Vita Nova nickered to him. "Go see what he's up to." She barked. By he, Letavice knew she meant his sire.

With a deep sigh, the grey stud walked off at a leisurely pace. He climbed the varied, rocky hills away from the mouth of the Inlet. He crested one more bolder before the grey hide of his father came to view. Standing near him was Solomon, a scent Letavice recognized from his semi-frequent trips here, but he had not met their new neighbor in person. Next to the painted bloke stood a sleek, athletic, cherry-colored young mare. Letavice felt his heart skip a beat as he stared at her.

Letavice nickered warmly to the group as he approached, bumping his father lightly on the shoulder with his grey, whiskered muzzle as he settled into a relaxed position among the group. "Greetings." He said, before catching the last of what Solomon had to say, and he felt a flush of heat rise to his white cheeks. Letavice eyed his father then, before sneaking a few short looks at the pretty chestnut mare. He quickly assumed that this girl was some kind of prize meant for Ironclad. But why Solomon was here to deliver her, he wasn't so certain.