So, this is new. Her every other step is a prance, bright grass and sunshine warming and tickling her from every angle. Of all the places she coudl have found, this has to be her favorite outcome — a warm clearing, full of people (mostly ladies, huh? Weird.) and green to boot? Sign her up. Carefully, her slender legs pick through the small groups of grazing women, tail lashing excitedly about her ankles; it smelled so perfumed here, like women were just here all the time, twenty-four seven. Not her favorite crowd, but hey, she'll live!

Strolling to a sudden stop, Valaera let her eyes wander, mildly surprised at how tired she actually felt. There was an ache in her hooves that could only have been from days and nights worth of travel, chestnut ears flickering deftly at the sensation as she tried each toe in the plush earth, lips quivering to a thoughtful pout. Okay, so, path that way, path that way - she offers a small, flustered smile to the surrounding ladies and lets her tail do the talking, flicking idly against her white thighs.

This was so new. She had no idea where to go first - why not stop a while, right? Places as pretty as this had to have tour guides, and she was all too eager to play cheesy tourist.

Oh, so, nevermind — there were dudes here. A handful, anyway, picking their way through the sloping bodies of the very many women that positively drowned them out in both scent and size. Okay, not size - but number - because holy hell is the first stallion who approaches her huge. Subconsciously, the little forest filly stands taller, straightening the slender column of her splotched neck, chestnut ears swooping forward to catch his name. Archam. Big name for a big dude, huh? "Morning to you too," she offers, voice tinged with exhaustion and energy all in one. This was exciting, and breathtaking, and she was tired but in the best way possible.

She's just about to give him her name, too, when someone else enters the fray. Younger than Mr. Archam, and tall to boot. Angling the nubile fit of her body to face them both, Valaera can only smile between the both of them, a little tense if only for the look she most-definitely catches Mr. Chem throw Mr. Archam. Trouble on deck, boys? "Hey," and her voice wavers under the sudden turn of Chem's strong gaze on her, but her chin manages to stand tall, one ear flicking the pale glimmer of her forelock out of her eyes. Chill, Vae, they're cool.

Well, hopefully, anyway. "I'm Valaera," and her black-frosted lips curve in a smile, tossing that small(er) head toward the beautiful glen surrounding the motley trio. "I haven't, uh, trespassed on your territory or anything, have I? I met someone on the way here that told me there were kingdoms nearby, and I - well, this place is too pretty to pass up, y'know?" She has the distinct feeling she's talking too much for at least one of their favors (looking at you, tall, painted, and handsome), but she lets her tired voice flow naturally, lifting the slim crane of her head in a nod before letting hazel eyes find both of them again. Her ears fluttered back in a conscious bid for politeness, smiling thinly - she was raised to be a good little lady, after all.

Oh, it's one of these. She'd been offered a place in a band before (if you read 'offered' as 'given little choice of'), but the experience hadn't been entirely unpleasant. Archam's smile is kind but familiar, the typical plated offering of a place beneath a tall, strong dude and his harem of women. The realization of their offers slowly bleeds onto the forest filly's sloping features, pink-flushed nares flexing quietly in thought. Chem's silence does wonders for the image of quiet expectation he's most definitely trying to get across, and though the young Napoleon in her wants to challenge him with a front of her chest and a snort, Valaera can only raise her chin higher, a glimmer of hazel plucky pep sparking through her eyes.

The initial hesitant response to Archam is swallowed up by Chem's sudden interruption, his broad voice an obvious command of power. Archam was older, and Chem was... well, he was certainly Chem, and Valaena felt her eyes flicker toward his approaching figure without a chance to stop herself, ears fluttering depsite her best effort. He's big, and though her friendly nature bids her reach forward and touch her infinitely smaller and gently-sloping muzzle to his, the otherwise hidden intentions of men and their fancies have her slender shoulders run tense. What could this possibly mean? She hadn't necessarily been in the market for a home, but if this was the way they advertised themselves...

A shudder ripples down her flank at the black stallion's sudden whisper, his voice hoarse and a fairytale novel's perfect baritone, all manly and musky and bwuh. One ear twitches between the gauzy white of her mane, her gaze resting on both Chem and Archam, striped hooves teetering gently in the soft, green grass. Were these yes or no questions? Was this just what her choice was - old and knightly, or younger and bold? A new mare emerges from the hoard of perfumed women, and with the sudden lash of the lady's tail, Valaera figured her answers made.

Orrr not. Her tired eyes struggled to flash with energy as Celeana made her intruductions, perking forward at the sound of her name in someone else's mouth. Before she can give pleasantries back, though, Celeana asks the damning question — are you suited for? Whether it was herd life or a sisterhood, Valaera knew she was quite possibly the absolute best at everything, thank you. (She'd never been in one of either, but how hard could it be?)

"I really wasn't looking for anywhere when I came here, y'know," she finally manages to get out, youthful impatience her greatest negative, and with a small flicker of her tail between her thighs the forest filly glances between each face, lips pressing together. "But that doesn't mean I'm not capable. If there's a rank I can fill or some ladder I can climb, I'm always down, but-" She turns her gaze on Chem then, a young girl's challenge threading through the bright green-brown of her eyes. "I've known jungles and creeks — what do you mean by a village?" Come on then; if they're all here betting for her favor, or whatever they're doing, shouldn't he be putting in a little more effort?