This male, this stallion, was a contradiction and a conundrum all in one. A small frown had begun to form on her already confused features as she tried to understand each reply the stag made, he touched on areas of thinking she had never considered before and the more the conversation drew on the more drawn in the ebony mare became. Amused by his first answer, she returned his laugh with a rare smile of her own, his inability to trust something she could relate to, but one answer led onto more questions. "Do you trust yourself?" It was a sincere inquiry, her voice light and barely higher than that of a whisper, ears now curved to catch the notes of his vocals as haunted eyes held a strange flicker of interest in them. Before she would have only listened to her mother’s words, now as she grew taller and wiser, her mind opened up to the strangers of the world. Namely the one before her, crowned with his crimson weapon. Her smile slowly fades away and she nods once at his acceptance of her reasoning, intrigue, perhaps that word could sum up this whole meeting.

What he said next interested her the most. She watched his eyes narrow and his voice speak of disbelief at her emotionless talent, at first Ghost said nothing and observed him move, allowing the cogs of his mind to churn her words together. Like a predator closing in on his prey, he began walking closer, his mouth forming multiple questions until finally they stared eye to eye, her body motionless and she met his gaze with the same unmoving pools. She could feel his breath on her obsidian pelt, tickling her chest in warm drifts before finally he retreated back, leaving his last words dangling in the air.

Ghost paused. For a minute or so she said nothing at all, considering his words and deciding her answers to his intriguing questions. All things she had never considered before, things she would never had needed to consider, mother had told her all she needed to know. Or, that’s what the younger, more fragile Ghost had thought. It was different now… Or was it? "What does passion feel like? Is it similar to the warm feeling you get when another’s blood coats your horn and their stillness is almost… Satisfying?" She let that hang there for a moment before continuing on wards, her features still contorted into the same vaguely confused expression, there was no cold deadly intent that you would expect from someone asking such a question. It was eerily honest and innocent sounding. "Emotion is cumbersome, a hindrance, it clouds your mind and breaks your heart. At least, that’s what mother always said. The less attachments I make, the easier it is to kill my prey, the more emotion I feel… The weaker I get, the chances of my own survival go thin." Words, life lessons, drilled into her by a dappled murderess whose gaze had only ever shown her death and decay. The little hybrid spoke the lines easy, almost like a chant and you could tell she reminded herself of it everyday.

Her gaze still tried to capture the scarred male’s, watching each move and expression he made, her mind turning back to the last line he had spoken. "Perhaps I should embrace it, but will I become weaker?" She asked him odd questions, big questions, her gaze turning intense like he was God and should know all the answers to her sorry excuse of a life. This was the first time she’d ever asked such things and her heart thundered in anticipation. Of course she felt emotion, she locked it away in a cold, dark part of herself, the question was. Should she open the cell door?