He had been here and there, flitting between the women he had cared for, the oasis where Antares had established Atair’s oasis as the main encampment, so to speak, and the Crossing looking for others who could use their home and companionship. Not many suited the desert naturally, however, and this left him returning that evening to find the moon rising behind slowly coalescing clouds.

His legs are tired from the swim, but he does not show it when his brother invites him to eat with them - he knows it is only because of the water in the strait between Salem and the Lagoon. He knows it is because Mira hadn’t prepared him for extensive swims the way it had trained those born here.

He is is just above finished with the aches, the burn turning into a satisfying chill, when he spots her a ways off from himself. His great red body was darkened by the fall of night like the clouds over a fading sunset, but still he knows she sees him - aims for him as she screams a challenge and charges towards him. Her legs pump into the earth, the fragments of moonlight breaking past the clouds glinting off of her. He does not move away, only whirling with tightly bunched haunches so that when she almost makes it to him, he shrills a clarion call of his own and breaks into his gallop.

His worries to the wind, as he so many times suggested to others. He races so fast that he lets every prickle of worry or pain or discomfort simply wash away in the breath of his god. Shu was a god of freedom and wind and breath - and tonight he worships him fully, daring Corona to keep pace with him if she dared, if she could. Antares could almost triple his own endurance, but Aldebaran was built additionally for speed.

When at last he thinks he sees in Corona the right level of eagerness, he drops back, snaking his head low, flirting with her when the heat in his blood bade him obey. He knows she is not his, that she has chosen none of his brothers yet - much less himself, but she is beautiful, she is behaving as wild as he feels, and he had never been one to play fair or play the gentleman when a woman had made such a blatant overture as her challenge had dared him to return.

He squeals a nasally sound and tosses his head, at the end, just before he thought she might truly turn on him for the almost distasteful come-on. He would not earn his brother’s wrath and push his luck, but there had been plenty of mares to confirm he was not above following the heat of Min in his blood either. "The Temple of Shu would have welcomed you as my sister, Corona. You would have been sought as a Priestess or favored of any man who owed fealty to Shu. You race like you would let your heart burst if it meant reaching the horizon."

He is not suave, but he is not withholding in praise either. The race has only brought the stallion’s blood to a boil and he whoops a great holler up into the night sky. "AH! I will feel this burn tomorrow, I had only just returned from the Crossing before the meal at the oasis." He is distracting himself, certainly, and he figures this a good enough topic to start bringing himself back to his senses. "Your marriage aside, I think you would have thrived as a Miran woman."