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Morningstar tensed as he heard a sound that most certainly didn’t belong in the forest. Well, maybe some parts of the forest, like in the little meadow that his family usually slept in. There were lots of snorts of derision there. But not out here, where there shouldn’t have been anyone but him and the two idiot foals. He peered around the other bushes, forgetting about his plans to teach his charges a lesson in subterfuge and pranks. That was all well and good when it was just the three of them, but if there was someone else…. Well, it might not be that bad, he told himself. Maybe it was one of his sisters, or his nephews. It could even have been his mother, or maybe Grimm. There was even the possibility that it could have been the herd healer…. No, it probably wasn’t Curador. He was a bit too nice to snort. But none of them would have laid hidden…. With a shake of his head, he stood up from his hiding place, still looking around the bushes but no longer trying to be quiet. There was too strong a possibility that the unfamiliar sound had come from a threat.

Jareth nearly jumped out of his skin when Morningstar suddenly stood up. He hadn’t heard the same noise that his older brother had, and so to him it was as if the orange stallion had appeared out of nowhere without any warning. Of course, as his hooves settled back on the ground and he managed to swallow a very undignified yelp, he realized that Morningstar must have been there for some time. It wasn’t in the older male’s nature to just burst out of the bushes unless he had a reason to. Was he hoping to foil Jareth’s plans? Had he heard the plans? “We weren’t doing anything!” he quickly tried to lie, just in case Morningstar hadn’t actually been listening in. It was a slim chance, but the foal couldn’t resist. Of course, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized that he could very easily be caught in the lie. If Morningstar HAD been listening and did know what they were up to, of course he’d know that Jareth was lying. But, he also realized, it was too late to take the words back now. All he could do was deny, deny, deny…. And hope that Calavera backed him up.

Calavera was not in the least ashamed to admit that he let out a startled squeal, especially not to himself. He jumped nearly as high as Jareth when Morningstar just popped up out of nowhere. His poor little heart raced so hard and fast that he was certain it would beat its way right out of his chest. Which was just as well. He was so busy trying to keep his heart where it belonged that he didn’t have a chance to say anything before Jareth did. As the smarter foal, Jareth’s lie was probably the wisest action. If he’d been on his own, Calavera was sure he would have blabbed everything. Trust Jareth to know exactly what to say and when. Calavera quickly shook his head in agreement with the red foal. Shook? Miaybe he should have nodded? No, he reasoned, he was denying doing anything bad… at least he hoped that was the right thing to do…. He made himself smaller in hopes that Morningstar wouldn’t focus on him. He didn’t think he could hold up under the pressure of an interrogation.

Errol nearly fell out of his tree at the orange stallion’s sudden movement. Oh, he had known the other male was there, that much had been obvious. But the orange male had been clearly been trying to be sneaky. How was Errol supposed to know that he’d just move suddenly like that? It wasn’t unreasonable for Errol to be startled. And he was absolutely certain that the stallion hadn’t heard him. Not when he snorted and not when he scrambled to maintain his perch.

Morningstar felt his jaw drop a bit and quickly closed his mouth before his young charges could see how flabbergasted he was. It would do to let the ankle biters think he was in over his head, even if he was stunned. He had never even heard of a soq perching in a tree. Well, maybe a skinwalker who was a cat or bird in its other form. If he had been dealing with a full sized soq, he might have suspected that was exactly what they were dealing with. But the fellow staring down at them was most definitely a mini stallion. With little wings. Like a mini wind. Were there such things as mini winds? Well, maybe not… those wings didn’t look like they’d be strong enough to carry the stranger far. They were apparently very good for gliding, though. And possibly climbing. How had this fellow gotten past Midagi?! What was the point of having guards on their borders if strangers kept sneaking in? This was most definitely something he’d have to bring up to his mother. “Who are you?” he demanded, moving forward a bit to try and place himself between the foals and the stranger.

Jareth peered around his older brother’s legs, trying not to seem like he was gawking. Even though that was exactly what he was doing. He had missed Morningstar’s initial, shocked reaction, and as such was trying to emulate the older stallion’s seemingly unflappable demeaner. Being younger, and less experienced than Morningstar, he wasn’t doing too well. He wasn’t quite aware that his jaw was hanging open just a bit. But he was less concerned about this stranger and more fascinated. He was used to mini soqs. His adopted mother was one, and Calavera and his mothers were all smaller. Heck, Jareth had thought, when he was newly popped, that he was a mini soq because he was the same size as Zahavah. Then he had seen Calavera and Vartan, who were roughly the same age as him but so much smaller. It had taken quite a bit of explaining for him to understand the difference in races. Not that he didn’t grasp the differences, but rather that Zahavah and her brood didn’t seem that concerned about it. Ultimately he’d had to ask Duga about it. And about why he and his brother were still a bit different from everyone else in their family. And here was yet another stranger! He had wings like Jareth… sort of… could they be related by blood?

Calavera wasn’t bothering to hide his gawking. He also wasn’t bothering to hide behind Morningstar. Some days it paid to be tiny, and this was one of those days. He scampered between Jareth and Morningstar’s legs and planted himself between Morningstar’s front hooves so that he could stare unabashedly up at the stranger. He had a dozen questions on the tip of his tongue, but he made an effort to swallow them. Momma Nova had told him, once… or several times… that asking a bunch of questions all at once was a good way to not get answers. It was better to ask a question and wait for an answer, and then ask another question. He was better at that game than some of his fellow foals, but that was more because he had a tendency to listen rather than speak, anyway. And he was usually with someone else who was willing to shoot off questions like they were going out of fashion. Right now, Morningstar had asked a very good question, and Calavera waited excitedly for the answer. He was ready to jump in with more questions, though, in case Morningstar couldn’t think of any more or needed help.

Well, that was unoriginal, Errol thought. Though, he supposed that was a good question to begin with. Most people wanted a good footing before they delved into the more detailed interrogations. He debated for a full five seconds on how much to say. Finally, he settled on more or less full disclosure. If his observations about this odd little herd were correct, they were relatively open minded. As long as they didn’t think they were being bamboozled. “My name is Errol,” he introduced himself. “Errol Dynamyk. I’m a traveler, or rather I was a traveler until I found this forest. It seemed like a good place to settle… I didn’t realize at the time that there was already a herd here. I happened to hear the young ones chatting and I got curious. I didn’t mean to startle anyone.” As soon as those words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Most herd guardians didn’t like being accused of being startled or thrown off their guards, and Errol knew that the large orange stallion was one of the herd guardians. He wasn’t the only guardian, but he was definitely one of them.

That... was actually kind of interesting. Morningstar tried not to peer curiously at the wings as his charges were doing, though he wanted to. He'd never heard of functional wings on a mini, not like this at least. Since the other stallion seemed to be embracing the little ones' questions, he held his tongue, to see what would happen.

Jareth wasn’t sure if he should be excited or disappointed. On the one hoof, the wings were real! And the stranger, Errol, could even use them! On the other hoof, he couldn’t fly, just glide. Though… Jareth wasn’t certain what the difference was. If you were in the air, did it matter what word you used for it? And if Errol couldn’t fly, did that mean Jareth and his brother couldn’t fly? Their wings were bigger, but so were they, really. At least, they were a little bigger than Errol, and they’d grow, right? Zahavah had told him that he’d grow to be big, like Morningstar, not little like Nova or Wolfgang. Calavera would be little like Nova and Wolfgang. Jareth wasn’t sure how Zahavah knew that for sure, but since she was Zahavah, he figured she just KNEW. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he forgot to ask another question when Morningstar stayed quiet.

Calavera saw his chance and jumped on it. “What’s the difference?” he asked, not realizing that the same question was floating around Jareth’s head as well. Like the larger foal, he didn’t see why the term mattered as long as someone was up in the air. Though, unlike Jareth, he wasn’t quite as invested in the answer. It was pure curiosity that drove him to ask. He didn’t have wings, little or otherwise. He wasn’t going to be able to get any higher than he could jump. There were days when he thought that wasn’t fair, usually when he watched Jareth and Gareth try to flap their wings and get up off the ground. He was so little, it seemed like he should be able to have a similar advantage. He often wondered what the world would look like from way up there. And Errol had even come from the tree branches! That was even higher than Pavlov!

That was another easy question, in Errol’s opinion, though he realized he had left himself open to it. He shot a quick glance at the guardian, just to make sure he wouldn’t be stepping on any hooves by answering. Morningstar, though, seemed like he was more than willing to let the young ones dominate the conversation for the moment. No doubt he was trying to see what kind of tidbits Errol would let drop. It wasn’t the first time a guardian had pulled such a stunt with him. Errol had encountered all types in his travels, and Morningstar’s behavior wasn’t new. “Flying means you can soar through the sky, up among the clouds,” Errol explained to the curious, young faces in front of him. “Gliding is similar, but closer to the ground. I can’t go as high as the birds, and I can’t fly for as long. But I can slow my fall from the branches, or get from one tree to another as long as they’re not too far apart.” And the angles were right, but there was no need to confuse the younglings with that kind of information.

“Only if you get permission from Mom,” Morningstar answered. He was hit with sudden inspiration and nodded toward their home meadow. “In fact, if you go find her or Dad, you can ask right now.” There, that should get rid of the little rugrats long enough for him to interrogate the stranger properly. And if they actually did manage to get Zahavah to come, then he wouldn’t have to interrogate the stranger for as long.

Jareth exchanged glances with Calavera before both foals took off to find the appropriate adult.

Errol watched the young ones run off, bemused. He could guess why Morningstar sent them off. He was getting potential victims out of the line of fire, so to speak. Not that Errol would ever harm a child, but Morningstar didn’t know that. This, too, was typical of the guardians that he had met in the past. He considered explaining that he meant no harm, but he had already said he was just trying to find a place to live. From what he had seen of the local herd, they were a pretty accepting lot. If they were going to accept him as a neighbor, they’d do so… or they wouldn’t. Their leader was also very protective of the younglings. He guessed that had something to do with the skinwalker that was lurking around. Rather than volunteering any information that could get him into trouble, he waited to see what the guardian would do or say next.

Morningstar twitched at the response. It sounded sincere enough, but a really good liar always does. Then again, Errol had done nothing, so far, that made him seem like a threat. "We have guardians on our borders," he explained, trying hard to keep his temper in check. "If you came by the river, you would have had to pass Gregor. If you came over the mountains, you would have passed Midagi. And if you came through the trees, then you had to have run into the walker."

Errol took an involuntary step back. “You’re working with a walker?” he asked, aghast. If these folks were in league with a walker, that changed things. He had run into a herd that followed a skinwalker once before. It was a crazy little cult, and he barely got out before the walker turned on her own people and killed them all. Not that it surprised him that it happened. The herd was made up of nothing but completely mental soqs who were either as twisted as the walker they followed or too stupid to realize just how stupid they were. Errol did not want to get wrapped up with another herd like that. Granted, he’d heard rumors of some kind of charm that would make the walkers ‘safer’ for folk like him. He didn’t put much credence with those rumors, though. Such a thing sounded too good to be true, and in his experience that always meant a heck of a catch.

That sounded about right. Morningstar sighed. Nothing the other stallion said struck him as false. His instincts also told him that the male was legitimate. "Yeah... one of the reasons we haven't done anything about him yet is that he's not particularly smart. No sense in chasing off a dumb predator so that a smart one can move in...."

Errol nodded a bit. “That’s some pretty sound logic,” he agreed. “Though I’m surprised you don’t have someone keeping an eye on him anyway.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized he may have made a mistake. Either that, or he may have hit upon the perfect opportunity. He wanted to stay in this little valley. He liked it there. It was safe and comfortable, perfect for what he had always hoped for. He could settle here easily. If the local herd could accept him, allow him to stay, then he might even be able to seek out some company every once in awhile. But most herds would only allow an outsider in if they presented some kind of service. “I’m no warrior,” he told the guardian in front of him, “But I’m a good lookout. Maybe I could help with that little gap.” He just hoped that he wouldn’t regret offering. As he had said before, feline walkers were usually as much of a danger to him as to anyone else. After all, they could follow him into the branches.