Now that he knew of it, Vadim's days as often found him in the dusty, half-abandoned library of the Day Court. The other half he spends everywhere- roaming as far as the edges of Solterra though not often beyond. Not right now, which so much to do and so much to learn. He is starting to find his stride in this place, to feel comfortable. Less like a stranger, if only because they are all strangers. Always in the back of his mind are plan brewing of a visit to the Night Court, to dance among the gypsies of Denocte and steal a little of their joy for himself since so often the Day Court is a joyless place. And yet you would not know it, to look at the young golden stallion, trapped within a fort of old books. Blue eyes skim the words of the texts quickly, lightly, seeking particular information. He has been at this since the windows of the library let in enough light to see by.
Finally, it is the restlessness of too much stillness that drives him to abandon his books as fascinating as they are. He slips from the stone couch where he'd rested while he read, threading his way between stacks and shelves with the grace of a dancer. His hooves ring out on the stone stairs as he takes them quickly, almost recklessly. It is as though once he is free of scholarly pursuits his blood thunders, reminding him that he is a thing meant to move and not meant to lie still. When he reaches the ground floor he burst into a canter with only a quick call of pardon as he pelts past someone in the halls and dodges past another court member just coming in through the doors. The courtyard is relatively empty in the heat of the day, most either taking their leisure or turning their mind to some task or another.
His aim is for the gate and the broad desert beyond, his playground in this harsh place. For all the dangers it holds, he would not trade the golden seas of sand for any other place- except perhaps for the mirrored salt flats of his home. He almost doesn't see the stranger as he bolts out the gate, digging in his hooves at the last moment and slewing his body around as he passes him as though curiosity hangs on an invisible bit, forcing him around. Eyes bright as the sky alight on the dusty and travel-wearied warrior, warring curiosity and concern.
"Welcome, stranger!" He is fair certain at this point that he knows most of the faces of the Day Court- he has seen them in passing, at meetings and at work in the garden. This man seems new. More, he -smells- new. It is the scent that has taken the longest for Vadim to learn, the subtle clues that the Courts leave upon their members when they travel. "I am Vadim- what brings you to the Day Court?"
He is not winded from his brief sprint, nor has sweat yet darkened the golden brilliance of his slick pelt.
@Stavros
