He always makes an unforgettable entrance. Azmere bolts into the meadow at a dead gallop, savoring the summer sun, feelin' good. His sorrel locks get tangled up in the wind's flighty arms, and sunbeams dance off the white stripe on his face. The slightly parched grass crunches under his feet, a casualty of the sun's war on cold. In the forest, though, there is lush green grass, and since he came from there, he has no need for the meadow's less than appetizing plate. You can smell the humidity, the baked earth. He prefers the cold, but today, the sunshine is refreshing.

Azmere's golden eyes sweep the meadow and settle on a petite, attractive mare. He slows to a dancing trot, head bobbing to the rhythm of his iron-like hooves, tossing red-hued forelock into his eyes, moving towards the stranger. He stops a few feet in front of her and lowers his head in a little bow. He features are relaxed, ears pricked towards her, careful to appear non-threatening. "Well, hello there, peaches. I have to say, you look ravishing. I hope you don't mind me interrupting your solitude, but I simply had to stop and enjoy the scenery." His eyes sparkle with mirth, a smirking grin plastered to his face.

" You've got your demons, and baby they all look like me. "