weird weird weird, it's still weird, hearing a call at the borders - and being the only one who can show up and deal with it. well, no, he doesn't mind if gracious or anyone else does the greeting, but still, authority sits on him a little funny. it did when he was nénar, too, but he still had someone to defer to. (of course, he still defers to mato as far as he's concerned, but delight is de facto in charge, so.)
but he goes, and he puffs himself up a little bit, because he a) still likes to preen when he can and b) can at least look the part even if he doesn't feel it. he does not move with the liquid grace of the silvery prince, but the wisp is delicate, beautiful (when he doesn't open his mouth). he is not a prince but maybe he can be a knight.
the call had been deep - it matches the body, and delight feels that same sort of creeping interest he'd felt when he saw matteo. the stranger is handsome. let's get past our gay moment and get to work. he clears his throat. "you are at tindómë's borders," the morwinyon says, and oh yeah, already significantly better than he was with... everyone else he's accepted so far, "who are you?"
delight squints at that grin. he's very sensitive to being made fun of (and consequently, usually assumes he's being made fun of), but the fella doesn't say anything else, just introduces himself as troy. the morwinyon pulls himself up to his full (not very impressive) height and fluffs up a little, giving him the most haughty look he can muster and says dryly, "that depends." he pauses a beat. "what can you offer us?"
looking at the guy (who is handsome but not handsome enough to get away with smirking at him!) he assumes: muscle, but he's been wrong before. muscle would be good though, provided this troy doesn't do something silly like mock his name or something.
a musclehead, just like he thought, though something about the fullness of his laugh puts delight at ease. just a little. tracking, though, now that's of interest. in a roundabout way. "we share the forest with an elk known as the king elk," the androgyne says, and pauses a moment to let the idea sink in. "think you'd be able to keep tabs on him and - maybe his cow, if she's still around? not to hunt him," he adds hastily, but, well, it would be helpful to have someone around who could actually pay attention to the herd when it warms up - or keep track if the elk actually has a child come spring.
oh, right. delight de-puffs slightly, mollified by the other's good cheer. he doesn't trust it yet, but, well.. they do need the numbers. "my name is delight," he tells him, "and i'm our morwinyon. our alpha." (unlike the prince, the knight always clarifies: no one has any idea what the hell he means otherwise).
the morwinyon squints, still not entirely sure what to make of the fellow's blathering good will. he keeps looking for the snark and bite and coming up empty, but... ah, fuck it. time will tell. he huffs slightly, at least pleased to have someone to keep an eye on the elk for them. the last thing he needs is for something to happen to their king elk while mato is on leave.
delight makes a dismissive gesture with one paw. he still doesn't feel entirely comfortable being addressed as morwinyon anyway - mato's the prince and druid, not he. "our hierarchy is based on trades," he tells him, "the skills you decide to pursue. i trust you'll work to prove yourself, so. welcome to tindómë, troy." he does not quite smile, but his face relaxes as he steps aside to usher the strangely good-natured beast into their borders.