This continues on as the pair approach the meadows. The friendly chatter seemed welcome, by the young black and Weir was pleased. He did so love it when children liked to talk with him. Releasing the name of the beetle from his thoughts, he peeks at Ramiel, who seems confused. A question sparking from his lips on what exactly that meant, was that what the beetle was called? Was that his homeland? His homeland! Why Weir, as often occurred they would all come to know, had become very distracted. A hurrpmmhing clearing of his throat followed his own realization of this. How very silly of him. “Oh, no, no,no, that is the beetle’s name. The land I was foaled in is named Gregor Valley, forgive me. I got rather caught up". He extends an apology without haste.
It is not long before the boy himself causes a break to ensure. He is looking off out into the tree line. Weir raises his dial as well, looking out, his amber eyes floating across each line. The river snaked its way through the foothills, a backdrop of mountains receded off into the sky. The blues becoming merged with the perfect gradient, blending one into the other, unknown where they left off or began. “It is a sight to see.” He says looking down at the grounds before them. “Rich with plants and animals, an excellent habitat my boy.” His words are fond, he did seem to like it here. With his slow goings, and inquisitive nature, it was safe to say he would be spending quite the span of time here. “Much to see, but we’ll have to work on the little to do, I think.” A smile wraps itself across his maw.
As they go, Ramiel provides more talk, information on his mother. That one with the metal skin, remarkable, he thinks as the specifics reach him. “Froze her limbs!” he said rather excitedly, one might not ever be able to discern the fellows true age, if basing solely on antics alone. “Sounds dreadfully uncomfortable. No way to itch a buttock, absolutely dreadful yes.” He nods as if he were agreeing with himself. “Yes he is indeed an Angel? Why, I’ll have to have a look to be sure.” His response to confirmation that the King is in fact divine. The talk turns, and he chuckles. “Ah, yes there are indeed horses with powers in my homeland. Though not as many as are here I do not think.” He appears puzzled, thoughtful. “Few are born with traits in my homeland, in my family only 5 so far, but that is out of many. Aunts, Uncles, nephews, so yes indeed very few. “ He stops and looks at Ramiel with a smirk. “Ah, yes sly devil you.” He fake berates the colt, a smile on his lips and laughter in his voice. “I do have a gift indeed, a touchy trait to be sure. I am privileged to manipulate the outcome of others magic. If I am in the vicinity that is, though it must correlate. I could not for example change a flood to a fire. A fog, rain, clouds, of course. The body is made of about 50% water, if I was of the notion, I could swell ones body, drown them from the inside.” He stopped, realizing the discussion had turned a bit dark. “I would be hard pressed to do that though, my boy, don’t you have a worry.” He added very seriously.
