The mare is quick enough to respond, and direct in her response. Something Straia has always preferred to wasting words. The mare introduces herself as Cellar, former servant of Tyrael. Straia can’t pretend she knows the name, but she could always ask the ravens later. Perhaps one of them was familiar with the stallion, though at this point, Straia’s best guess was he’d been gone from this land for years. Decades, really, since she was old enough to have seen more than a decade pass.
Not that this was particularly uncommon in Beqanna. Everyone seemed to live forever. Cellar probably followed him to the ends of the earth, and like most stallions are prone to doing, he left her there to rot. They just wanted you to follow to prove that you would. A characterization that she knows, of course, is not actually true. There were plenty of kind hearted, loving stallions out there. But not the one she chose to keep company with, and not the kind someone with a servant was likely to be.
This Chezter seemed like one of those kind-hearted stallions. He’d follow the mares to the ends of the earth, rather than the other way around. “The Chamber is always looking for more to serve the land. And unlike a horse, the Chamber never leaves.” She cocks a foot slightly, her tail swishes behind her. “If you really need a walking, talking sort of master, I’ve been known to be in the business of adopting. Though know I serve the Chamber, and by proxy you would as well. If you hate it, you can always leave.”
straia
the raven queen of the chamber