He listened, and confirmed within himself what Mirage had suspected; Isilme had risen again under a new banner after the great clash of the demi-gods ground the lands to dust. It sounded horrific; as Smoke spoke the images danced within Maskan's mind's eye, her choice of words easily stirring the imagination that often thought of little else but the stallion's next meal, or his family. Knowingly, he nodded, recognising that Isilme was a land scarred so deeply by war, it was unable to ever recover again. A shame, perhaps, that something with such potential for greatness would fall to ruin, but such was the way of things. Having never treaded upon the lands, nor grown attached to them personally, the stallion easily moved his thoughts away from them.

A small smile and a deep nod confirmed what Smoke voiced about the siblings regrouping here, in these lands of magic, mystery and the utterly unknown. He didn't mind that she had come to that conclusion, heck, he even expected it of her now, given what a crafty little mare she was proving to be. With the amount of scars scattered across her hide, and to still be standing, it was not surprising that an intelligence of great power resided between those twitching ears of hers. The stallion was glad for company that was not related to him, that held an intelligent tongue for a change. Dealing with useless thugs like Viserys, and leaders of few words like Indy, had given him a thirst for something else, something more stimulating - it was a thirst he hadn't realise he possessed until now.

That wasn't to say he was unhappy with his lot. He would never deny his siblings presence, no matter the time of day or night, nor the reason - even if it was to argue and fight, or share in a quiet moment of affection. His siblings meant more than anything to this stallion, and he knew his brother was the same. Wonder where that idiot is… Casually, his eyes flicked over his shoulder, half-expecting his temperamental half to come charging through the trees, demanding to know why Maskan got to enjoy the company of their esteemed Military Leader while he was dutifully scouting the Northern rim. But no crashes of hooves echoed through the grounds, no scolding birds or fallen leaves caused by brash, uncontrolled movements occurred. Their peaceful walk would be uninterrupted, for now.

Attention locked upon the grulla once more, and her words did surprise him then. She was so similar to the mares he was related to, he wondered at the possibilities of their being related - but he was from a land years worth of travel away from here, the chances were slim at best. It gave him hope, that such insight into life existed across entire globes, that perhaps the races of the horses - winged, horned and plain - were not doomed if such grounded, steady creatures did exist in each. Evidently, not enough of these minds did exist, for ignorance and stupidity still seemed to rule the world.

"At least Gossamer has the sense to know her borders would need to be protected by a capable hoof." He said quietly, slightly amused at the mare's own surprise of her slightly lengthy speech. "It sounds to me, however, that while the hoof fits into the hoofprint - you are certainly most qualified for the role, madam - you are not a warlord." A breath of laughter stole from his lips. "In our wanderings, we often found causes that we thought were worthy of our blood and sweat, we were proud to call ourselves lords of war. But after so many years... We finally realised what we had always known." He paused here, unsure of exactly how to express what it was he was feeling, also unsure just how much of himself he was willing to reveal.

"We realised that the only thing worth fighting for, was love."



[ Omg, Maskan muse, where did you come from...? ]