He had been waiting some time since he arrived to be greeted, but really it wasn't a concern of Weir's. The roan stood at the drinking pool of the oasis, maw having dried ages ago, people watching so to speak. He had felt rather stuck, trying to decide which horses to approach, and just as he had almost made a decision someone else entered.
Streams of equine filtered in past the Deserts borders, each so different from the last. There were some there with multi colored canvases, some had abilities that were visible to the eye, others still seemed rather ordinary. No one was ever ordinary, not to Weir. Still some had the tingling sensation that magic carriers possesed, one female with ravens doing her bidding. Another takes the form of the bird itself, though he was sure she had wings to begin with, perhaps the two were friends.
His wandering mind is reigned in though, as his amber eyes continue to scan the sands. A new sight affixed to his gaze, a black mare approaches. Solidly black, her skin not tainted with a miscolor or markings, except for those that dis not come about in a natural manner. A crook and flail adorn her breast, and a line of precious stones adorn her visage tracing down her neck. She is all things beautiful, and Weir feels an unfamiliar sensation, his heart alight with a fire. How lovely she was, dark against the golden sands, walking straight towards him.
He clears his throat, an all too familiar hurumphing to ensue,
"Queen Camrynn,"he dips his dial, ever mindful and courteous of pleasantries. Well, most of the time."I have indeed come for the mocks, I am Weir from the Dale."he responds, mesmerized by the color of her eyes. What an interesting color, he thinks, stretching his neck to perhaps peer too closely. "Eyes are the windows to the soul they say,"he begins to speak, still trying to get a good look, "They say the patterns of our iris' crypts and furrows are correlated to our charter traits."He blinks his own, honey hued orbs, pulling back from his intrusive inspection.
"An excellent turn out if I do say so, you must be rather pleased."His gaze seems to fall too often, and linger too long. The roan himself hadn't yet noticed the significance of that, but he would.
