Rehoboam had taken his time to adjust to the Lagoon, but a part of him found it no less repellent now than he had when he had arrived. He still misstepped when he walked across the more waterlogged areas, missing the semi-solid tufts of land and plunging his hooves into stale, murky water more often than not. And yet, to move more inland was to endure the humidity and the bugs without the ocean breeze to scatter them away. It was a miserable land, and one that Rehoboam had not yet found many redeeming qualities for.

Yet, he did not falter in his mission.

Keres had belonged here, in some way or fashion, and he was determined to understand what part of himself existed because of the Lagoon. What were her stories? Had she, like Daciana, been imprisoned here among the men? Or was she a byproduct of one of them? A daughter, raised among jackals and left to her own devices? He yearned to know more, not that he held out much hope. The few Lagoon men that he had spoken to were all new arrivals, or uninterested in hearing out the ideals of an untested recruit. It was irritating… but not entirely unexpected.

Movement ahead catches his eye and he watches as the pale-eyed stallion navigates the Lagoon with an ease that Rehoboam could not match, even though he had no impairment. Hope flickered in his chest and he stalked forward, doing his best to keep on the same path that the stranger had travelled. When he reached the secluded spot where the other tobiano had halted, Rehoboam cleared his throat and spoke.

"Hello." His gaze remained focused on the other stallion in keen curiosity as he hastened to explain his interest. "I've never seen anyone walk through here without a single misstep before. Have you lived here a long time?"