Icarus knows a thing or two about fresh starts. He's joined and left more clans than he can count over the moons: slipping out in the middle of the night to stargaze only to never return, paws leading him further and further over the horizon without thinking to look back. It's not as if there had been reasons to go, not for him — he'd liked the places he'd stayed before, even grown to love their people. The tom just isn't built to stay anywhere. He was born to the wilderness and it's to the wilderness he ultimately belongs, year after year, group after group. Maybe this time will be different, he thinks, maybe this time he'll linger among the plains and let himself grow older surrounded by the same familiar faces — Icarus plans to make the most of his time leading the Knights, but he won't hold his breath forever. He'd only started traveling for want of something larger and grander than himself, to see the world and seek out the answers to its most impossible questions. He might not know what he's looking for, he just knows he'll keep searching until he discovers it. Only time will tell if it'll be the upland manor where he stays for good.

New faces are easily spotted around the Knights. The most common among them can be counted on one paw, though Icarus hardly minds their tight-knittedness; either way, it ensures newcomers are sure to stand out. Icarus hasn't exactly asked Aurum about his moving to the Knights full-time, but his increased presence hasn't gone unnoticed, and neither has Roy's arrival. The golden tabby is padding through the garden when he spots the boy with the lion not far behind, and the Judge swiftly veers from his course to join them. He gives a flick of an ear in wordless greeting as he halts, gaze following Roy's until he, too, is peering up at the sky. The act is by no means unfamiliar to him, even if Rus is more well-acquainted with the heavens as they appear under nightfall. But as one named for a love of the sun, the draw of day is not entirely lost on him. Gentle rays dance upon his pelt and cast it in a golden glow, the light unobscured by the rolling hills that stretch out before him. It feels just that much more bright here, that much more pure. Like he could reach out with cupped paws and drink it in. "Cloudwatching?" he finally says, somewhere between idle guess and musing suggestion. The tom's gaze finally flickers back between father and soon, green eyes losing their thoughtful temper and beginning to sparkle with the same brilliance that glitters from above. Icarus offers an ease smile, and though he forgets a more proper introduction, he adds, "The view here is great, but it's even better at night."