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He tested the name quietly, delicately, on his tongue, committing it to memory. That settled, his eyes remained on Samothes until the other piped up again, this time with a question. He shook his head, an infinitesimal motion that transitioned smoothly into his muzzle dipping back to the east, from whence he'd came.

"No. Several weeks' journey that way," he remarked quietly, gaze returning to Samothes. "I'm assuming you are from here?" The question was gentle, but steeped in surety--the man had the scent of the plains about him, and his home must be close; why else would he be making this inquiry?

"I'm looking for someone," Zamael added, lips firming. He would wait until Samothes' next answer to continue; if it so happened he was just passing through as well, he might not have any information to give. As to what else he could give. . . His eyes swept over the lithe form in unguarded appreciation, a question hidden in their fiery depths.