He trotted in as instructed, but Quentin's words, at first, haunted him. He thought of mice, of the vast empty cave full of bones--and there was nothing worse he could imagine than what he'd actually seen. Any darker, ominous part of his imagination drew a genuine blank at trying to picture what had caused it all. Somehow, a cave full of bones and lurking, unknown, alive somethings was worse than anything else--with, or without, mice and their metaphors.

But as he moved closer to Quentin's home, he found it hard to stay afraid. It was difficult to think dark and ominous thoughts in the bright, summer-like heat, and now that they were in the utopian shade alongside the gurgling of a blue river, the cave full of bones felt somehow very distant.

"It's a nice place to live," he said, and he felt it, genuinely. He himself wandered the Crucible, for the most part, and as far as Hydra went, the Crucible was relatively hospitable; but this part in particular had been a well-chosen spot. "You did good finding this place," he added, having trouble picking out their den even with the directions. "I dunno if I'll ever need it but--thank you very much even if I don't. And thank you for bringing me, today. If you ever need me I'm usually around," he added, nodding his head this way and that. And he wasn't, really; but now he was making a mental promise to linger closer to this place from now on, just in case they needed him. He liked Quentin, and there was no reason not to; banding together was always important.

"Do you mind if I rest a little upriver? I'm really tired after that, but I won't stay so close as to draw attention. -Maybe I can meet Mirage later?" he added, hopeful.

Warrior felt warmth flow through him--and it was a warmth wholly unlike the blistering heat of Hydra.

"Thank you again," was all he said, softly--but he made a mental promise not to be too far away, in case anything ever happened.

Quietly, he turned, and began pacing off toward the water; he'd have a drink, have a look around... get to know the area, a little. He was pretty sure he'd passed through here once or twice, but he'd never lingered; it'd be a good idea to learn the entrances, the exits, in case of emergency--or to know from which direction a predator might come.

Hydra had taught the horse many lessons, and he wasn't about to shirk them now.

And yes, he was saddened that he hadn't found Oleander--he grieved her; and he was frightened, still, by Canis. But he was weary, and his immediate needs--thirst, hunger, tiredness, and the need for shade--called to his body too strongly for the rest to really weigh him down just yet.

It would, in time-... but, first things first.