The shadow-mare had replayed the events of her capture repeatedly. She could see no way that she could have avoided the grasp of the snake, and yet she felt that she ought to have. It was impossible to break one's mind from the hold of hypnosis, and yet she should have. The disappointment in Elizabeth's voice reiterated these things to her, and she felt the emotion mirrored in herself. If she could not keep herself from being stolen away, how could she protect her kin? To them she had a responsibility, one that she could not do from an inferior herdland, trapped by these featherbrained imbeciles. For the first time in her life, she felt well and truly trapped. Caged. She did not like the feeling. She would have to figure out a way to get both of them out of here, to prove that she were not utterly useless.

And they would, but first, she would have to address the silver-marked fae's qualms. Her response to the jackal's rather sarcastic question was no surprise, and, as expected, reflected her own feelings. Her skin was crawling to think that she shared the same space with such impurity, such inferiority. It was disgusting. She felt as though it was sinking into her pores, lodging itself into her bodice, as though she would never be free from it. But such thoughts had no place now, as they were attempting to plan, to lay in wait and watch for their chance. Perhaps it would not be today, or tomorrow, but a time would arrive when the dark pair would be beckoned to freedom, despite the protests of the so-called sultans of this wretched land.

"... cannot be held together when the heart is taken." Her words resonated within the shadow-mare, and irrevocably bonded her to her once-frenemy, this scarred, ambitious mare who was so like herself. A stronger allegiance could not be declared than to admit Psyche's central rank amongst their group, and in that moment there was a realignment of alliances in her mind. Perhaps Elizabeth could be trusted, after all. Her vocals were almost searching, as though looking to Psyche for guidance. And the Crux would not disappoint her again. "Darling, I fear you are forgetting the strength of our allies." Her tone was almost soothing, a surprising tone from the dark fae's maw. "All is not lost. They have the good doctor to guide them yet, his nurse, and others that are fully capable."

She spoke of d'Artagnan, Kou, Deimos, those that had been long-standing members of both the Plague and the World's Edge prior to their exile. These she could mention in safety, with outlying ears assuming they spoke of the herd, not a secret society. The Plague, she dared not speak of. There was too much at stake to risk the rumors that would come of such discussion. It was imperative that all remained secret. Elizabeth would understand that, she knew this to be so. She hoped that her words would calm the scarred mare's racing thoughts. "And besides, you don't expect to be here so very long, do you?" A too-sweet smile graced her lips. They would bide their time, and then, they would run.

[W/C | 537]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.