The Lost Islands
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give me moonlight when I'm leaving;

He does not have to wait long for the sound of approaching hoof-steps through the tangled wood. Her scent is familiar enough, but he has never seen her before this moment. A feral looking creature, wearing the jungle as much as the jungle wears her, though she does not seem unfriendly. Her blue eyes are striking, full of mirth as she teases him. He looks to the fallen tree with a quiet chuckle before turning back to the pale mare.

"Ah," he says, an easy grin upon his lips, "I'm afraid I'm not that strong, miss." His eyes twinkle in the dappled light. "This tree diverted me from my usual path, and while I was here I figured I might say hello. My name is Arroyo." He says simply. Undoubtedly she can surmise where he came from. He's never been one to introduce himself with any sort of pomp or flourish of title, though it has been so long since he has left Atlantis he may have forgotten the need.

Arroyo has not often met a female lead, though he knows they exist here and there on the Islands. She seems young for the role, if she is who he thinks she is. Her scent along the borders has been just as strong as his as of late. He had not been much older when he had set off from his motherland though, and while the seasons have passed and blood has spilled and dried, it does not feel so long ago.

"Regretfully, I do not know your name..." he says with playful feigned sadness, hoping she will tell him.

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