For a moment Leeka had thought that she had said something wrong after she had spoken, awaiting Kahlua's answer. Did she have an accent that was hard to understand? It did not escape her notice how different her manner of speaking seemed aloud compared to how Kahlua spoke, which felt short and blunt in comparison. Maybe she should try to adjust. The tongue of Eoroleen was a very descriptive and winded one, she had to admit. Still, Leeka half feared in those split seconds of silence as she comprehended this that the white of the mares coat would melt into snow and the onyx part prove to be some cleverly woven shadows. A trick of her mind concocted to delay the inevitable loneliness that ate at her weary soul. To make a fool of oneself, wouldn't that be grand? Her worries, however, were broken when Kahula erupted into bubbly laughter again, the sound of which was still unusual to Leeka's ears though the young mare had the impression it was best to get used to it, for it seemed to be an iconic quality of the mare. It was easy enough to read the mirth on her face anyway, that even a blind horse could tell.

So, this land was called Helovia. At the mention of Kaj the Stormbringer, Leeka's ears perked, intrigued by the second title. The Stormbringer? Why were they named that, she wondered. Was it possible magic existed here too? Her mother could call rain when she wanted, as all magickers could. Excited by the prospect, Leeka was about to ask but Kahlua spoke again before she could and the thought ran from her mind, banished by the solemnness of her memories. " I didn't want to, but I had no choice in the matter. I was out on pilgrimage to complete my Mark of Age, turning three as I did last summer, only to return to a home overrun by some fell enemy forgotten in the lore of my people. There was perhaps a reason magic was lost before my mother came..." That last was added slowly, for it was a thought that came too often to her when gloom dwelled.

It came too late to Leeka when she realized how much she had said, spilling the truth of her history to a near perfect stranger. She wasn't troubled, however, rather she was comforted. In a way it felt natural to confess to Kahlua, like she was friend. Leeka decided it was the nonchalantness of this whole encounter that was filling her with hope and encouragement. The painted mare had shown nothing but kindness and her feelings couldn't find any foul intention at all. Besides, what use was it to keep the secrets of a dead land? It was no longer but a tale of her's to tell now. The pintaloosa dug shy-like into the earth with the toe of a flinty hoof. Leeka felt her throat tighten some, unbidden, but managed not to let it crack her voice. " I was to be a magicker, like my mother..."