Icewine is a beautiful stallion, so when he found himself with two women despite his newness to the wild, he had ultimately understood the reasoning. Plenty of mares had an eye for beauty as such, only limited by humans in the choosing of their partner - and luckily not burdened by that partner further than it took to cover her. The thing Wintersweet explained was that here, there were stallions who felt compelled to collect them like trophies and his nature of following the logic of wisdom was a fresh perspective among the lot here.

Then Celestine had also showed her favor, coming along with them and they’d actually developed a bond. Deeper than the knowing leadership of Wintersweet. Affection grew more readily there. It is why he asks her to lay with Wintersweet, looking concerned as even the coldblood mare trembles. He turns back to Nicodemus, though, as he speaks. "”Is someone after you? Or do you just mean the weather?"

"Wintersweet saw the dangers of the storm before I did, so we fled." Simple and true.

Then he asks after Nicodemus’s importance. "I am not the owner, my sister is, but I am working closely with her to take over here soon." Icewine seems to grow unsteady, insecure, being no small bit aware that he is unskilled in fighting the way Nicodemus is probably, himself. "”In the meantime I hope you all don’t mind if I share the space with you. The Inlet isn’t usually this friendly to newcomers." Icewine turns, the natural horse gesture of welcoming or acceptance, realizing he’d been standing too head on until then. "Are you all just passing through?"

Icewine looks wearied, then, shaking himself from nerves and discomfort inside the muted refuge of the cave while the storm screamed outside. "I do not know this world well, we are always, seemingly, passing through. I do not know the rules - only that I must keep us together and that the only way to really do so is to find someone who will house us so we don’t have to run from every bad turn of the weather..." He looks disappointed in himself, his tone speaking to the self-flagellation of failure. He lowes his voice to under his breath, "Wintersweet is a traveler but I think she and Celestine are growing tired of constantly moving. Would you perhaps be able to speak to your sister on my behalf? I am… domesticated. I do not know my uses here yet… nor what contribution one usually makes, but I will do whatever it is, for them, to have a home."