He was soaked to the fetlocks and chilled by the melted snow that had been around his hooves, unsettled by the current quiet that surrounded him. Lasairian was quite honestly unsettled by a lot of things going on of late, but only because settling into all this was less easy than he had imagined it might be. He knew that this was as obscure as anything else he could have stumbled into, a good distance from the Bheo and all the things he had grown up around. Yet it also held something familiar to it in a way. Something that caught his attention enough that he did not want to continue on from here just yet.

If there was something to learn here, more offered than what he had known before, then Lasairian wanted to pursue that. He wanted to soak up what information all those library books held, anything that had anything to do with his keen interest in magic. Someday he would hold it again, because the absence of it was like a missing limb, a missing half of his heart. Which was unfortunately cut into so few pieces -- figuratively -- that there was most certainly nothing left to it here and now. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing; maybe this was what he needed. He was oddly okay with it, at least.

His goals were simple enough; carve out a place for himself here and learn. Soak up the knowledge that he could get his hooves on, find a way to gain magic again, work on his healing skills, and otherwise just try to live. Lasairian would always want to push himself forward in these things, undaunted by the setbacks and strangeness of what was shoved in front of him. If he could get through the years of yearning back at court with no relief in sight, then he felt he could get through anything else that life decided to throw at him. A new place and the many losses? Lasairian was still standing.

It might be a chilly place to be standing at the given moment, but he had made it this far, took away his own temptations, and look at everything with a different mindset. First, he needed a spot to call his own, a place in which to store gathered herbs and cultivate plants. If he could manage that much like this. He was still sorting the mechanics of how to be this thing, what changed and did not. It gave him insight and appreciation for what he no longer had, and what little he could still grasp of what he had once been. He was determined to make the most of this.

At the moment, Lasairian was inspecting the meadow, mapping within his mind where he suspected certain flowers and herbs might grow once the snow all melted away. He wasn't really sure on any of it, just guesses thrown out there, wondering if he might be right when all was said and done. Time would tell, but he could not be sure how long the winter season would continue on for. Not without asking or looking for documents that might state how weather worked in this place. More to learn, and Lasairian was all for that. After some meadow mapping, of course.