The faceless stallion offered his name ― Rehoboam ― and the bay gave a curt nod. "Mikhail," he replied simply despite not being asked, nor feeling any need to elaborate on who he was or why he was here. He didn't come to make friends or form attachments to anyone or anything in this fetid place. Best to keep any interactions brief and to the point, he figured, one dark ear flicking forward to catch the boy's next words. So he was looking for someone then? Even had a name, and as far as Mikhail was concerned that put him off to a better start than half the folks out there looking for a long lost lover or relative or what have you.

The tobiano gave a soft grunt, head tilting to one side as sifted through his memories of the Lagoon, each more hazy and distant than the last. He'd heard many names in his time here and met many characters. From his own father to Caesisus to Ceolwulf and everyone in between, all had ingrained themselves into his mind in some fashion or another. He was particularly apt at remembering names and smells and voices given his wanting eyesight... but of all the faceless figures he'd met, none had ever borne the name Keres.

He gives a shake of his head after a moment, tail whipping as the bog insects continued their assault. "No, sorry. She might have been before my time. Or after." One shoulder rose and fell in a lazy shrug. It might not be what the guy wants to hear, but it was the truth, and Mikhail couldn't offer anything better than that. He wondered, for a moment, who this Keres was and what she meant to this Rehoboam figure. Was she a mother, a lover, a mentor? She must have been important in some way or another. Especially if Rehoboam was so set on finding her that he was asking random strangers in what was arguably one of the most dangerous places on the Islands. Had she been a trinket here, or maybe a coveted companion? And most importantly ― did she even want to be found?

For a split second an image of his own mother's face flashed through his mind, but the dark stallion blocked out out, stomach twisting unpleasantly. Suddenly Rehoboam's predicament seemed far less interesting. "A word to the wise, kid," he warns gruffly, foggy gaze somehow finding Rehoboam's, "folks ― mares especially ― come into this place and sometimes they don't ever leave. And sometimes it's better to save yourself the trouble of lookin' for them, 'cause more likely than not you'll just end up with more questions than answers. Trust me. It won't be worth it." With an air of finality he turned his back on the stranger, unable to give more answers and unwilling to provide him another moment of company.

---

who knows upon what soil they fed
their hungry thirsty roots?

fifteen. georgian grande mutt. bay tobiano
of nowhere. blind. felony x zhenya. pippa.