Longstride digs in all four hooves and skids to a stop in the mud, throwing splatters of it all across his flanks and up his sides where it blends in with his tawny coat. Ghost Thistle's mount is an impressive sight any day of the week, and especially now, with that figure lounging so casually across the top of it. For a moment he's not entirely sure that he's not hallucinating. He's heard talk of the old ones, and then Waterspark mentioned finding one -- like finding a twig in the marshes -- and now there is one. Just like they've called him into being. For a moment Longstride is unsure whether to drop to one knee or sing in joy; glancing to Waterspark, however (after all, she is a lady), he summons up all of his formidable self-confidence and ventures forward.
If this is an old one, one of the legendary and wise kimeti blessed by the Motherfather, then it should be only too happy to assist them. And mentioning the kiokote should at least rouse its -- his -- interest.
Longstride bobs his head in a nod as he approaches the elder, climbing to the top of Ghost Thistle's mound and standing out against the deep blue sky. For a moment, he hopes his voice sounds as brave as he wishes it to be. "Hello," he says, his voice just a touch hoarse (and he curses inwardly), "I was hoping -- that you could help us. We bring news of our cousins. The kiokote. From across the plain." He tips his head, eager to see if the legendary perks up at that word. "We've just found one."
