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She hears the names of the two herds without much surprise – the Edge was the only of two offered to accept their friendship, and she has done nothing to ease the ache of a battle between her kin and those of the desert. That she recognizes the name of the Falls member most vocal about the way the Basin works is a slight surprise, and she sees the pale mare’s face flash before her thoughts with a bitter resentment held back from the two times the winged wench had bested her in the wilderness. Such things are not to be forgotten, and neither is the fact that miss Elsa is so openly spreading dissent with her tone. What the hybrid says next, however, draws the Lady away from possible plots involving the kidnap and unfortunate… loss of a certain snowflake marked pegasus mare and into another favored region of her plotting, wicked mind. The pride which saturates the words is enticing, and that the woman has come here even after having been told that she would be unlikely to be accepted among them is also curious. The golden woman runs her eyes across the wings rising from her shoulders with a dark shudder of possibility grasping at her heart, though her eyes remain glimmering and unreadable and her mask is her usual friendly grin. "Elsa did not lie. We are all unicorns on this mountain," she muses, her feminine lilt gracefully explaining truths to the woman before her, "it has been the way of our people since the Lord Frostheart and the Dark Empress were given respite in its splendor by the God of Time." Her words lack any harshness or cruelty, for it is only the way that it is: but there is hope for the strange hybrid at her doorstep yet, for there are those beyond the stone gateway that could rid her of the ugly blemishes left on her body by the careless actions of her parents; if she was lucky and wise, breeding with only worthy crowned men, her children could be born whole and beautiful in all the ways she was not. "You, however, seem to show proper disgrace and humility for your condition," she simpers, a wicked twinge quirking her smile and darkening the glow of her eyes, "we have members skilled in the… alteration of disfigurements, if you have interests in such services." |
the Rift
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[OPEN] In The Eyes Of The Beholder
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