Ash cocked his head as the birds circled over him. He lay floating on his back, waiting for one to get brave enough to land on his outstretched hoof. This was a common practice for him, to wait, floating like a log in efforts for a bird to land so that he may talk to it. He did not encounter many mer's, and he attributed that to the brilliant white of his skin. He was simply to bright to look straight at on a sunny day, and usually clouds meant to dangerous to surface.
Today the sun was out, and felt good on his belly, so he simply floated to wherever the waves took him. He had no plans, no one to meet, and had already eaten his lunch.
He heard splashing behind him but paid it no mind, probably otters or fish. He simply laid there as the ocean nudged him closer to the shore.