The prospect of being sought after had slowly faded into memory as his previous life had dissipated beneath his hooves. When he was the heir apparent to a prosperous land there had been no lack of parading women intent on batting their eyelashes in his direction. His tumble from the proverbial pedestal - and the loss of his birthright - had eliminated such wonton behavior. The spotted stallion has reconciled within himself that the precocious behaviors thrust upon him as a young child were beyond normal expectation. By realizing that others are like vultures circling around the best meal, he has come to the realization that it is not always ideal to be the object of attention. He does miss the whimsical easiness often bestowed upon the upbringing of a prince, yet he finds his thirst for self-empowerment far better quenched through the bounty harvested of his own accord.

The Dunes had appeared as a wasteland when he had stumbled within their borders. The faint scent of Felarof had still danced upon the breeze but his continued absence soon found that to be fleeting as well. In truth Joachim has not found much time to linger within his own borders while attempting to heckle his mother into some form of insanity. In the moments when her presence was lacking, he found himself choosing to continue the broadening of his horizons by seeking out alliances with fellow rulers across the islands. While his upbringing had created an empty shell of a man, he has found that embracing his inner strength has slowly begun to fill the void within. He has risen to a station on his own merit and finds his inseverable tie to Marceline the one cumbersome burden yet to be overcome. The adage that time can heal all wounds may sound like the musings of a dream-filled child, but he has found that even the hollow ache created by abandonment and severely lacking love can even begin to ease with each newly attained accomplishment. The bloodline tethering him to the spotted woman is nothing more than a mild inconvenience; he finds he no longer wishes to remove every echo of her spotted flesh from his own. Instead he will rise above her shadow while choosing to live within his own light.

The dainty echo of her call reaches his pink-tipped ears like a welcomed melody. The prospect of someone seeking him out for a change fosters a feeling of giddy excitement not quite befitting a stallion of his station, yet he cannot deny the pleasant feel of being wanted. He propels himself across a short expanse of sand before cresting yet another of his plentiful Dunes. He halts in surprise to find the woman wedged between two of the sandy slopes and briefly wonders as to her intent. How odd it is to seek someone out only to place yourself as the victim.

His icy blue eyes do not betray his mistrust, but instead are allowed to twinkle with just a hint of the giddiness remaining from mere moments before. He maneuvers down the sloping embankment with the stark brightness of the sun at his back. A gentle nickering reply to her call is offered in a deep tenor - almost as if to extend welcome - as he observes her. She is not unpleasant on the eyes and the delicate curvatures of her body are not lost upon the boy. He denies himself the want to look her over hungrily and instead chooses to meet her gaze once he has come to stand before her. "I am Joachim - though I believe you may know that already, for no one seems to come here on a whim." His tone is light and teasing as a soft smile brushes across his pink-rimmed lips. "You carry the scent of the sands, but I have not had the pleasure of meeting you previously. Pray tell - from which territory do you hail?" He is observant enough to know that she cannot be from the Hills - there is no scent of any portion of his family upon her hide. She also does not carry the smell of the brindled stallion his mother often frolics with, for lack of a better word. He finds that she has intrigued him with the simplicity of her arrival, yet he cannot help but find himself bristling for the unpleasantness that so often accompanies change.