Meadow

The pale stallion before him was nervous, or… something? He makes a show of flexing, of being… handsome? Frey takes him in for a long moment, peering carefully at the man where he stands. An outstretched hoof, the arch of his neck, the way that he seems to strike and stand in the low light of winter itself. Frey remains neutral, expression somewhat guarded, somewhat curious as the stranger attempts to maintain his posturing. Still, there’s a glimmer of something else– something not unfamiliar to Frey either. Exhaustion. Being out on your own is tiring, especially in the harsh winter months.

He’s impressured, sure. Frey can appreciate the man as he stretches, as he ruffles his proverbial feathers. “Nothing to keep you from the wind, so it’s pretty bad.” Frey’s tail flickered as the breeze seemed to pick up on cue. He allows it to fan to each side, reaching down to scratch absently at his foreleg.

“You can come home with me, if you want, to the Lagoon. It’s safe… it’s filled with men like us.” Young men with nowhere else to go. Granted, would the pale man take his word for it being safe? Frey wouldn’t blame him if he balked. Still, he allows his gaze to rest on the man for a long moment, still taking him in. There’s a lot… a lot to look at here. His gaze lingers. Right, those probably weren’t the right kinds of thoughts to be having right about now, but the guy was good looking.