Dark legs carried the stallion forward toward the pool where Carrhae had initially been standing to meet her. "I am quite alright, Carrhae. You needn't worry after me," he said. The pleased sound he'd made rumbled in his throat yet again as the bay lowered his head to the filly. Warm breath would ruffle the smoky black girl's wispy mane and forelock; an almost rare token of his affection. Carthage sought to encourage her obedience and devotion to him and his command rather than let Carrhae take after her mother's stubborn nature.
Raising his head, the stallion continued. "Everyone I care to have follow us has been instructed to join us here." There had been others Carthage would have liked to stay on Atlantis, or to drown. Whatever incurred the most harm to them over time. A soft snort fluttered the dark satin of his nostrils then, and the dark bay approached the pool. He didn't step foot in the water as his daughter had, instead staying on the periphery to drink his fill. Once sated, Carthage stated: "I will go to scout from here once a few others have gathered, and I shall find us somewhere new to call home."