HOCKETY, POCKETY, WOCKETY, WACK
It disquiets his soul when the gentle, black mare mentions her lack of a proper family. He is well aware that not all practiced life in the ways that those of the Dale did. But still, it was not something to be taken lightly. Everyone should have a good solid foundation when they are young, something to seek support from. Families, they provided just that, or they should. He nods, a russet head falling inches before it lifts, splaying strands of hair across his eyes.
Elysteria provides a thoughtful peace of wisdom, and he couldn’t agree more. Why, here in the Dale he had gained new family for the ones he had left behind (His Mother, Father, Uncles). Family in all but blood, though a family nonetheless. A close knit group that he was glad to have stumbled upon.
Something to do? There was always something to do, perhaps even more for the small herd. It took everything one had to pick up the slack for their small numbers. Yes war and peace, peace and war. Weir had put his name down for both castes, might as well, plenty of room you see. ”Yes the castes, little things to do here and there. No rush now, plenty of time, plenty of room.” He assured the new mare that she didn’t have to make any quick decisions, all while making it known there was more than ample room on both sides.
They hadn’t seen much trouble from the other herds, though this did not strike him as odd or concerning. That didn’t have much to take for one thing, and secondly they weren’t worth having as allies. Not for the time being anyhow. They were worth everything to him, he would be delighted to have them on his side if the tables were turned. The herd was filled with traits, a congregation of the magic sort like he had never encountered. Well, except for that little trip to the Desert. They were useful, the others just couldn’t see that.
>_<