"My apologies if I tried to separate myself from the herd." The smile behind his face remains; he has few illusions and expectations left to spare, and he'd rather cling to the idea that he might ever feel natural in the steps of this place. He might be the only one to come through a window, but he doubts he'd be first or last in the room.

At the question, he slides another look along the kirin, having never been on a farm in his life. He could see them sometimes, from the towers of other districts: Amber living up to its name in the summers, waves of gold resting on waves of blue and black.

"I've mostly ingratiated myself with treats," he admits, not quite the depths of his ignorance. "They were broken in by someone else, from what I hear, but he's disappeared. I was giving them a bit of a mourning period, and reading up on deer just in case." One lifts its head, antlers catching light, and gives a soft bellow more ungulate than equine. When nothing answers, it drops to graze.