He stations himself upright, convinced that his companion will heed his advice, awaiting with patience the inhabitants of the Gates. Mostly patience, even he could become restless, but he doesn't have to.
A little thing is coming their way, Weir spreads a broad smile across his jaw. Weir adored children, he thought them entirely wonderful, and usually it was so. He always thought it was best to meet someone as a child, before the world corrupted them, hurt them. It's a curious thing the way things impact the young, forever changing them for one reason or another. They may notice the subtleties right away, they may not until much later and think back on the day the change was made.
He is glad the child steps forth to greet them, and he bites his lip as words come tumbling from her mouth. Why, perhaps it was sort of rude to announce someones stature is such a way, but it was likely just an observation. He can tell it is so as the child shrinks, suddenly aware of her harmless mistake. Fynnegan is soon responding, though Weir senses that he isn't entirely thrilled about the judgement. He does however react gracefully, though he looks to Weir with a questioning glance. "Why I don't rightly know, surely there had been, can't say there wasn't. I do not think Falabella's are quite as prominent as they once were, judging on this child's reaction. Hello there- dear child, oh wait- it's quite all right. What's your name?" He seems to make an attempt to gently coax her back.
He tries his best to lighten the mood, to make her feel more at ease. His ears flutter on his head, tossing strands of his forelock around, and then they disappear. He widens his eyes, flares his nostrils in a repeated manner, looking absolutely absurd. Soon enough someone else approaches, and Weir must again straighten and look proper- though he forgets his missing ears. The stranger greets them warmly, remarking with a more traditional welcome than his daughter had. Fynnegan steps in to make greeting, and to exchange their names. This was Magnus they were meeting, and his young filly.
"It's quite all right, nothing to be worried about, just a question." He beams brightly at the girl before returning to the matter at hand. "Thank you for receiving us Magnus. I've been discussing with my new friend the state of the realms, I thought it best to come to the source on the recent matters of the Gates. I would be most grateful to come in yes, nothing like a first hand look." He nods, then blinks down to his friend. "What do you say Fynnegan? Shall we have a look around?"
Of course he couldn't be left with all the decision making, it was never safe to place all your eggs in a basket. "I do apologize for the directness in our visit. I hear of the shameful display of brute force from the Chamber on your fae-gifted entity." His brow furrows, creasing just so against his amber eyes. It was a terrible thought, a terrible deed, he wondered why such a thing would come to pass. "Is it true then? Your gift is gone?" Weir had not heard that the entity was not entirely ruined. The rumors made it sound as such, and so he was under the notion the Chamber had left them with nothing.
WEIR
If you hurt me, that's okay baby, only words bleed
