It appeared that his acquaintance was as wise as she was beautiful. Words fell like glittering droplets of light from the pale lips, drifting across the distance between them only to fall like a soothing rain within his dark, thirsting mindscape. They reminded him of what Mirage had said in what seemed like a lifetime ago, truths that despite their logic didn't sit well with the stallion, who didn't view magic as anything but unnecessary boosts that left you weakened when they failed. What was so wrong with relying simply on your own body, the abilities he'd earned with hard work and over a long period of time?

A shrug sent muscles dancing beneath the silver skin, a slightly wry smile took the edge of his words as he returned her words with the views he himself had;
"I guess I haven't. I tried for a while, but the more I used the magic the more I ended up seeking reasons to use it; it because addicting, I felt myself begin to lean on it, rely on it... I don't like it Onni, it feels... like cheating. I'm probably a hypocrite for saying it, because when I'm in a bind I still end up using it, but I really don't see the need for magic at all. Wounds heal in their own time, plants grow and bloom when their time is right; why should we be able to change any of that? It's unnatural."

He didn't expect her to understand, or agree. For those born with the abilities it must be as easy as breathing, like a fifth leg or a second set of eyes. He didn't deny them the strength or the benefits of the blessings, Lace just wished that the air and water and grass could choose to leave the residue in someone else but him. Or if it were the gods who saw fit to dump unwanted magic over his head, for their own amusement...

Sighing and shaking the neck to try and rid himself of the negativity the thought of magic always caused, the stallion allowed the legs to fold beneath him and sank down onto the ground, unabashed as he rolled over to the back and rubbed the skin against sun-warm, green grass. A scent of lush greens wafted to the nose as ethereal oils were released from the stems, and with a content sigh he came to rest on the side, body littered with torn grass and the head resting in a patch of pale blue flowers. Not thistles, thankfully; that would have been less comfortable.

"It's Mirage..." he said quietly, after listening to the painted angels suggestion. "She... after Torasin and Solstice were killed by unicorns she kidnapped the foals of the northerners and used them as pawns in her schemes, to make the Basin come to her. It was all a huge plot to mark that the Edge is not to take lightly... I think I might have put her up to it. Not the foal part, the thing about setting down the hoof and not tolerate being trifled with... Which is good. It's great, even. But I don't know... I can't accept that she involved innocent children in the conflict."

"She should have tried to speak to them instead, let them realize that there's no difference between horses just because we look different. With time, with patience, maybe the next generation won't be as foolish as this one. As for their parents, a messenger with a statement was more what I had in mind. An ultimatum, that if they tried anything again... But I guess it's too late now. Another generation has been ruined and I might have lost my closest friend to this accursed, endless war."

While he spoke the eyes of the equine followed the dance of the dragon and the songbird through the sky, enjoying the sound of their song despite the gloomy thoughts that haunted him. As the words died out however his eyes closed, and with another little sigh the silver-maned soldier relaxed, waiting quietly for the verdict of the Shaman. Had she known about this? Lace wasn't sure whether the Throat had been involved as well, his lack of knowledge about the desert realm and their politics was quite embarrassing.



@[Onni]

Dim vales- and shadowy floods-
And cloudy-looking woods,
Whose forms we can't discover
For the tears that drip all over!
Huge moons there wax and wane-
Again- again- again-