He didn't back down nor did his eyes avert from her gaze, even though he felt the strength of the soul that resided behind those gleaming orbs. Another time he might have been tempted to let himself get drawn in by the passion with which she spoke her cause. He might have allowed her to push him into discussion, and ultimately convince him that her ways was the right one. It had happened before, upon conversing with involved horses that cared about something so much that their souls seemed to catch on fire. Now, however, the jaded knight didn't feel like testing his wits. He felt no desire to win this competition of words, nor did he have anything to prove by trying to change her mind. He had asked his questions and she was answering them in turn, with a force he hadn't fully expected from this otherwise so soft spoken dame.

Calmly he faced her, like a rock that allowed upset waves to wash over it rather than dragging it along at their pace. He smiled faintly at the shadow mare, the gilded eyes still disagreeing with her but without contesting her words.

"By all means. You need to do as you see fit; be still, Mirage, I'm not accusing you of anything." Apparently he had pushed some buttons there, and Lace found himself rather curious as to exactly what it was that she had gotten upset about. Was it that he didn't hesitate to question her, or was she actually doubting her own actions? The words she spoke held truth in them however, and if he ever had been a judge of character then the quiet little shadow wasn't one to speak of things she hadn't thought through carefully.

"Just out of curiosity... Is there a scarcity of land that makes you contemplate going to war, or simply a desire for one place in particular? No need to tell if it's too disclosing an information. I am naught but a stranger in strange lands, and it is truly none of my business..." His composure was the same as before, the distance in his movements and voice as exactly measured as when their gazes first connected. Lace only moved to accommodate the added weight when Fajira came tumbling down to rest on his back, quietly complaining over how his discussion had robbed her of her playmate. The little White clambered around on his back for a while, lying down and settling down only to restlessly try to balance out on his neck along the narrow ridge from where the pale mane cascaded; her balance had room for improvement though, and the way she dug her claws into his skin to remain mounted on him caused the seasoned soldier to grit his teeth from discomfort.