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Loki, it seems, has taken over part of his brood, for the moment at least. Whether or not the decision was a voluntary one is anybody's guess, but he is in truth more than happy to allow his mate at least partial peace and quiet, and looks rather undisturbed... Partial, that is, because he presently has only two foals in-tow, and the third is still lingering with her mother.

With him, he has a boy and a girl - both pintos, and looking far more like their mother than they do him, even if the colt does take after his own lighter color. The two children appear mostly aimless for now, weaving in and out of the grasses nearby their father and twitching their little noses now and then. The little boy is clearly the more adventurous of the two; he's actually doing most of the deciding for their course, wandering until the stallion trails after him, with the filly bouncing between them.

A sneeze splits the previously still air; the little colt shakes his head in disdain, his ears folding, and sending the short fringe down his neck into disarray.

"That," the stallion begins, peering down beside his son. "Is not for eating. Nor smelling," Loki teases, nosing the now-indignant colt. Liking to think he knows everything, even without being told, being proven wrong is something of a blow to his ego. He prances a few offended steps away, his tail flagging... But he secretly files the knowledge away for later. It's a small, wide mushroom, with a flat top covered in a thin, almost invisible powder. It's not deadly, his father assures him, but it will gift him with quite the stomach ache, and he makes note to stay away.

Ashlan does not, however, know he scares Loki half to death every time he pokes his nose into something new. Not to say he'd stop even if he did; he's not even bashful about repeating the experience, and takes off at a gangling trot not moments later, which fades quickly into a wayward gallop. "Ash, stay close." It's Loki, who picks up his ambling pace to trot after his son.

But the colt slides to a rather abrupt stop, digging his small hooves into the grassy earth, with his neck arched in surprise and his ears pricked curiously forward. "Er... Oops," he murmurs, blinking as he eyes the filly he'd nearly plowed over.

Loki can see the source of his brief daze even from back here, and does not quicken his pace. The filly does, however, and follows shortly after the colt to greet this new stranger. "Sorry," Ashara offers first, apologetically.

"Still..." Ashara adds trailingly, tentative as she glances between the two of them. The colt is still poised silently, velvet nostrils flaring not inches away from the other. He's torn between feeling foolish, and feeling amused with himself, and is rather at a loss; one ear dips back uncertainly. "He ought to be less clumsy, even so." She has a matter-of-fact tone about her, but there's teasing in her eyes.

It jars Ashlan from his temporary stupor, and he blinks a little too deliberately. "Um," the foal repeats, a little clumsily, as if grasping for something to make up for what he had lacked before, and finding nothing. Set back, but not defeated, he straightens himself and puts some distance between them, holding his little head high. "I'm Ashlan. And that's Ashara." His awkwardness has left him; he sounds self-assured now, and motions to his sister in turn.

She gives him a dissatisfied, childish frown. "Just Shara's fine." But her obstinacy melts quickly, and she grins to the spotted filly. "And that's our dad." Ashara has peered briefly over her shoulder, and tips her nose toward the stallion who's just pausing nearby.

Their father declines his head in a polite bow, then gives a smile that speaks volumes of his kindness even before his gentle voice has left his mouth. "Afternoon," he offers softly, far more brief and far less conversational than he'd typically venture. Loki is standing off to the side though, somewhat removed from their small gathering, as if to leave interactions to the foals.

"You too." It's Ashara who answers, cutting off Ashlan in the process, from the look of things. She sounds sincere though, and the colt follows with a vague nod.

He also seems as if he's about to say something; his muzzle hasn't yet parted, but he just has that look about him. He doesn't though, stopped short by Alyna's second inquiry. He cants his head a fracture to one side, both ears rolling forward. "Exploring," he says, rather oblivious this excursion is quite a controlled one.

It's an illusion Loki is presently content to allow him; he's just standing quietly to the side, statuesque and attentive. The stallion is obviously a creature of the wilderness; his ears are forever swiveling, and his nose twitches as he scents the tender breeze, searching it for anything out of the ordinary. He is, after all, along to guide and protect them, and the safety of his family - and their newfound companion - is something he regards with utmost importance.

The children, however, are likely too young to know better, and aren't even half as cautious. "What about you?" It seems Ashlan's previous answer has satisfied his sister, because this change in topics is hers. She has Alyna trained with a curious gaze, and gives her short tail a flick.

The colt follows with another question, heedless of the concept of moderation. "Isn't anybody around?" He tosses his crystal-hued eyes the length of the horizon, skimming it for signs of someone. Anyone. When Ashlan spots nothing, he looks back to her.

Loki's gaze is still trained in the distance though, perhaps the slightest hint narrowed. He's uneasy now, and his wariness has drawn him near the foals, where he towers protectively, but quietly over them. Ashlan instinctively picks up on his discomfort and passes his father a wary, questioning glance, but the stallion nods, and the colt swallows the feeling for the moment.

"By yourself?" Ashlan asks, sounding quite baffled and not the least bit critical. "Why?" He has a look in his eyes that seems to say 'why would you want to?', as though it's an idea that's hardly even crossed his mind. To him, exploration is something meant to be shared, and discovery is best made in the company of others. Certainly, he has independent streaks, and antisocial ones too, but... The colt eyes her briefly, speculating. No, she doesn't seem antisocial at all.

But then, he's never really known anything else. Not yet, at least; he and his sisters are quite young, and their parents scarcely leave them a moment alone. Isilme and Loki have the benefit of experienced parenting too, and are much more learned in their methods. Opportunities Ashara and Ashlan's older brothers may have had a crack at are presently unavailable to them, and they don't yet know the taste of genuine freedom. They're not really rebels either, though. The colt does have quite a defiant side in him, and the filly is rather competitive, but they're good kids, and for now they don't itch to betray the words of the parents. Perhaps they're just too young to want to venture alone.

Regardless, they both give puzzled blinks; Ashlan's head tips to one side. Ashara seems to be searching for something to say, and her mismatched eyes flick downward until she breaks the silence. "Well," she begins, looking up.

But she stops there; her eyes widen some, and flit nervously to Loki, who's close enough now she could duck beside him with just a few strides. He has been on-edge some time by now, but the filly's only just picked up on it, and the emotion is so strong her ears fold uncertainly. The stallion glances down to her and smiles gently, but she knows his attention is elsewhere; his ears are twisting cautiously. Ashlan has bolstered his confidence though, and nudges his sister with his velvet nose. "Anyway," the colt says, trying to avert the direction of things, despite the nagging instinct telling him it's not something he should be ignoring.

Her answer doesn't satisfy him. Not really, anyway. He doesn't so much want to know the sentiment behind it; he wants to know why. Ashlan wants to know what makes the sentiment exist in the first place; what makes exploring alone better than exploring with others. It shows; his expression is bemused as he regards her. "Oh," he says, simply, and sounding maybe just a tiny bit underwhelmed. "You're not alone now..." The colt, it seems, has quite a firm grasp on that jovial knack of stating the very obvious.

"Would you rather be?" the filly interjects, suddenly conscientious. If Alyna had wanted to explore on her own, it'd be awfully rude of them to keep her here, unwillingly in the company of others...

Now, Loki's mind has drifted almost entirely from the exchange between foals. His nostrils are flared with the anxiousness of an equine alarmed; he can smell the predator on the lazy breeze, and quite closely at that. The mustang separates himself from the foals, drawing his muscled form a few steps away before pausing again. He can tell now it's alone; his blue eyes dart the length of the grasses around them, peering for disturbances.

They settle on the furred tips of two ears, close enough to cause him great unease, but far enough to give him pause. His ears dip back uncertainly, every muscle objecting to his stillness, and wanting to lash out and protect his foals. Then its voice breaks the thread of silence, and skepticism darkens his expression.

It's a look entirely unsuited to his kind features, and doesn't last as long as one might expect. While it's quite possible Loki is entirely too trusting, he can't imagine why she would have revealed herself if she wasn't speaking in earnest. He's also almost certain she's alone, lest she's managed to keep comrades downwind despite the shifting breeze - and he remembers the filly's almost wary caution, like a child escaped from its caretakers, afraid of discovery. The stallion's posture hardly relaxes, but he relents; his expression softens, and his ears roll forward again as he nods a silent approval.

Ashlan blinks at her, a little baffled. She should have said so! While he's not sure he understands why one can't meet others while exploring with company, her explanation to Ashara is at least more satisfactory than the one he'd received, and it seems to placate him.

Ashara, on the other hand, seems to be struggling more earnestly with the concept. She glances between Loki and the filly, as if to say 'you're a new face, and we're not exploring alone'... But she doesn't open her mouth to voice it, and is instead busy being quite distracted with the shadow she sees slinking through the grass.

The colt sees it too; both foals have wide, cautious eyes. The darker of the two glances nervously to their father, but Ashlan's gaze is stuck to the figure as it moves. It doesn't occur to him the object of his attention might be trying to remain stealthy, and his rapt observation isn't doing it any favors; he's too absorbed with the smell of a predator tickling his muzzle, the instincts imploring him to run away from it, and the small, boyish voice in the back of his head telling him he can take it.

He can't take it. The moment the form breaks into plain sight, Ashlan starts. He gasps in alarm, his head shooting up as he scrambles several steps backward. Ashara hasn't even had that much reservation, and takes refuge at their father's side, where she buries herself shyly into his foreleg. Loki smiles fondly, but as soon as the filly has gathered her wits enough to realize the reality, she's overcome with embarrassment.

She straightens herself with a disapproving huff, and pulls herself to stand near her brother, who also seems to have grown over his fear and recovered. Where Ashara looks obstinate, Ashlan is wearing skeptical curiosity. His ears roll forward, and again he tips his head. "Who's that?" he asks plainly.

While Ashlan's inquiry hasn't been directly answered, the exchange which follows gives him at least some idea as to the nature of this stranger's identity. Mind, it's not a particularly pleasant idea, but an idea nevertheless. Never in their short lives have the foals been subjected to scolding; their ears fold with a shy sensitivity most children possess. It fills Ashara in particular with a displaced sort of uneasiness, like this isn't something meant for her eyes, and maybe she shouldn't be here watching. Uncertain, she glances to Loki.

He only smiles, stepping forward to bestow his youngest with a reassuring nuzzle. Later, he will explain to both of them wolves are still something very much worth being wary of, despite this one exception, but for now, comforting his baby is his singular concern. She presses into his touch, for once looking the part of a demure little girl she tries hard to shirk so often, seeming impossibly small standing next to him. The sound of whispered words drift away from them, indiscernible, but with audible gentleness. On hearing them, Ashara lifts her two-toned eyes, peeling them from the ground she'd seemed to suddenly find so interesting.

Finally, she swallows her uneasiness. The filly gives a small, personal nod to summon her confidence, and then distances herself from her father's side. Ashlan has been observing quietly through all of this, looking more curious than uncomfortable, even if the way his ears are still dipped backward, and the nervous flicks of his tail won't let anyone forget he's not truly at ease. Some part of him looks like it almost wants to say something, but has stayed silent for a lack of words. Even at his inexperienced age, the colt has an inherent sense these things are best left private, and he's not quite sure what to say. "Um. Hi, I'm Ashlan," he offers, awkwardly, his eyes shifting between the filly and her newly arrived companion.