Vadar

Seven characteristics are in an uncultivated person, and seven in a learned one

He could only mirror Dawn’s exhaustion for a moment, until Caelestra healed him. The palomino had been more battered and shabby when they’d teleported here, knocking on the reapers door like that. There’s a sense of duty in the smile she throws his way, he’s observant enough to see it, but that responsibility is a mere shadow compared to whatever else lingered in her thoughts when she’d glanced out across the waves beforehand.

The blind offer she gives him to stay here in the Cove should incite guilt in the silver black. It doesn’t. He actually considers taking up the free pass (mad man) because it meant he might stumble across the female unicorn again, and something like that intrigued him. On second thought though, “As much as I’d love to intrude on your hospitality, the wanderer at heart wouldn’t let me.” He declines with a smile in his tone.

Cael, who had been thanked for her help in making such a decision, joined Dawn like a loyal dog at her side. It was hard to resist cringing at the obvious way the black mare fawned over her mistress; Vadar’s personal morals saw that he never got close to anything or anyone, much less an individual who probably leaned on their title like a familiar crutch. Dawn had used the word “valuable” when describing her friendship with the bear-shifting healer, and that was about as obvious as the relation between upper class and common member as obvious could get.

He’d always wondered why the herd-bound stuck so closely to their roles when it solely depended upon what they were capable of.

“Incredible, terrible… ” He shrugs, not feeling an ounce of stiffness in the movement, “What’s done is done. I wasn’t on a side.” The stallion tilts his flashing eyes towards Cael, a bit of monotonous irritation slipping past the facade. It was a necessary lie to follow the first - or hadn’t she heard him? He was playing the nomad. Nomads don’t pick sides.

“I’m sure that, like myself, more than the fair amount of innocents got caught up in danger.” Vadar assumed correctly. Unwilling to give the lackey mare any more of his current attention, he bent his neck and looked past himself down the dark-colored beach. Hyaline and Silver Cove’s mountains curved protectively around their borders, but he was sure that if he traveled due south he could find a narrow path leading to the stormy sands of Pangea. “Well,” he replied after a short break in conversation, “I’m not a swimmer so I think it’s time to get walking.”

The stout build of his square, wide-jawed face turned back to glance at his companions. “Caelestra, Dawn -” He nodded briefly to each, “- Maybe we’ll meet again.”