If the Crown Fits
His casual advance into the land was quickly met by kind words from a kind face. The mare was poised while quickly announcing herself as ruler here. He stopped and turned face. A leisure swoosh of his silver tassels as he allowed her to finish. Her greeting simple and question rectified. Nodding his crown in respect he offered reason, "I had traveled here sometime ago. It seemed quaint... I was hoping it remained that way." His icey blue gaze shifts about the land and quickly returns, "Seems it has." Flipping his muzzle upwards to remove the silver of forelock from his view before continuing, "My name is Imperial. I'd be happy to serve here, you, Heda." His voice is strong, purposeful. No hint of child's play comes from the stallions tone or stance. He is young, but aged beyond his years.
Imperial