He had been contemplating whether or not the rabbit had been a rabbit at all, perhaps it was a hare. This was a very important thing to know you see. One couldn't spend their lives calling a rabbit a hare and a hare a rabbit now could they?
It was out of his peripheral that he spied the youngling. He gave a shake of his head and neck, his mane flapping side to side in answer. A coal colored colt come to keep him company he supposed. The youngster offered words of greeting and his moniker, the roan stallion listened with interest. It was however, not an apparent interest. Though he did in fact lend his ear to the lad, he kept his amber gaze on the trail. It was prudent for one to watch where they were going, especially on a downward slope.
Questions were to be expected from the young, and he did not mind to answer. Who are you? and no doubt he would require a name from the stranger. The roan gave a soft chuckle, his gait was that of a Sunday driver. Here to see the sights, and not necessarily all too concerned on when he would arrive at his destination. "My mother chose Weir as my calling, young Ramiel." He provided a name for his face, the two meandering down the hillside slowly."I had the pleasure to be offered housing at the Dale from an Elysteria, do you know the one?" He was sure the colt knew the one, but it provided conversation and a bit of learning for both.
He was of the opinion that the young were often overlooked. He found them far smarter than they were given credit for, and honest. If ever you needed a valid insight on yourself or another, all one need do is ask the nearest yearling. They often had an inconspicuous way of listening and observing, even when they were meant not to. It was humorous really, and oddly convenient. He made a point to be amicable with youth, to an extent, but really he was a rather pleasant fellow. It never seemed too much of a stretch to join them at their games, or take the time to learn about them. Their likes, their dislikes. Children needed that, some small shred of importance in a world much bigger than them, all too often out to consume them.
"And which is yours? Your mother that is?" He asked while he stopped and stooped. His muzzle lowering to the ground to inspect a glossy beetle that was hurriedly scuttling across their path. A curious creature he was if nothing else.
