“Oh, yes! I made it myself, I'm the Glazier at the Edge.” She glowed. If she could have lifted off the ground in lightness and danced among the clouds she surely would have, hooves falling in innocent nimbus clouds that layered across the sky. She was so proud of herself, so sure that she was absolutely brilliant. The painted girl was lucky she was lovable, or else she would surely become an obnoxious burden on those she met, a woman with a head too big for her own good and nothing useful to offer. As it was, she bordered on uselessness. “When you return home you'll have to look for it! It's dark blue, in the shape of a....” Her words stopped suddenly as she trailed off, looking to the kind hearted mare. She had not meant the sculpture to be an insult, had not meant to place blame on the Basin in one way or another, but standing here now before this marvelous new friend she couldn't help but feel ashamed at the thing. The scorpion.

At least for now, she did not have to finish. The soul-warming sound of the little fox dancing back to their meeting reached Kahlua's ears, followed quickly by Lena's call. Faelene! Kahlua smiled, the whinny and bright answer of the newcomer a band-aid to heal any concern that might have developed. It was another name to remember, but she was certain she could do it. Kahlua looked over the red-haired lady, Faelene's black coat in stark contrast to the white snow of the land, and in that moment all her worries about the scorpion were gone. She did not have to explain herself for now. Thank goodness.

“I'm Kahlua, Glazier of the Edge,” she repeated once more, in response to the thief’s question and in that moment she had to wonder. How was it that she had taken to such intense dislike of the members of the Basin. Of course, they had invaded her home, she knew that... but still. Weren't these two before her just like the rest of the land? Happy, easy to talk to, welcome friends? Was it really worth living her life in fear and hatred because of one invasion? And yet, even as she thought it, her mind wandered back to Deimos and Illynx, to Ulrik and Farenjer. She did not know any of their names, but all of their faces danced before her, mocking her ideals, testing her faith in the goodness of others. Instead, she sighed, trying to shake their blackness away.

However, instead of her vision becoming clear, the darkness on the horizon continued to rise and Kahlua began to shift uneasily as she shook her head again. Was the apparition real? All at once her soul began to shake, terrible memories of the eternal night that had plagued them not so long ago fixing in her mind quite suddenly. And then her real body began to shake and her shifting turned to nervous dancing in place. “I uh... What is that?” Her tone betrayed her fear and her heart began to beat faster, whites showing around her eyes as she began to move away. Still, the darkness came ever closer. And all at once, the mare decided she couldn't it take it any longer, the menacing way in which the inky clouds covered the snowy ground and moved ever forward. The girl was losing any semblance of bravery she had found. And finally all of her fear, her jigging, her adrenaline culminated into one massive shout, so unlike the painted beauty. “RUN!” And she heeded her own advice, turning tail and taking off, hooves digging into the snowy ground. She never should have come here. Home was safe. Home was where she belonged.


OOC| Silly SWP interrupting the lovely little chat these pretty ladies were having :( Sorry for the abrupt disappearing act!!