The foreigner scrambles to her hooves almost immediately, and the exuberant bird cocks her head in interest. She appreciates how quickly the milk-splashed mare can follow orders. I can make use of someone like you, even if you are not built for battle. Her embers flash with a cunning glare before disappearing in shadow, hiding the look by turning her head away.

As she presses on towards the tunnel closest to her, the tips of her wings stretched out to graze its walls, a question forms in her mind. Rather than puzzle over the matter alone, she seeks Branwyn's take on the matter. "What do you think lies ahead of us? Treasure? Foes? Death?" The vixen is not as concerned with the options she has laid out for the mare as much as what her answer will be; the dappled's answer will hint at her desires more truthfully than any other question that the Chieftess can pose.

But what is it that I seek down here? All that I want is dead and gone, or out of reach. Images of the Addict and of the silver-stained man flash before her, which strikes the Aztec as odd even as she flinches from the vision. Normally it is the memories of her tribe that cause her so much pain, and not the thought of useless men. Even as she tries to convince herself of this her face darkens and short ears sweep back. Her heart has made her out to be a fool more than once; her instincts, however, have not. And from what the bird can gather, it is idiotic to yearn for either man, for what can be done when one is bound to another? Nothing. She has herself to think about, and a herd; what more can she ever justify caring for?

They are all filth, meant only as pawns to wage our battles and as fathers to care for children. Perhaps they have uses more plentiful than just that, but that is all that I ever care to need them for. A shadowed head rises, grazing the damp roof above with her ears. She has grown weary of the other sex's attempts at deviation, and she will no longer fall for their hollow words and meaningless bonds. I reject your love.

A haughty bellow sounds from the mare, finalizing the unspoken promise that she has just made. Dark thoughts are interrupted by the distant glow of a lighted chamber, and the beauty pulls herself from the confines of her psyche to revel in its glory. Light strikes through the ceiling and against the bright pigments of her hide, bouncing back onto glittering walls to tint the precious stones embedded there. To another soul, this room could only be described as beautiful. Lustrous. Exquisite. Maybe even supernatural. To the vixen, though, it is merely...

Exuberant.

Yes, for once in the bitter Chieftess' life, she appreciates the natural beauty that surrounds her. She does not define its worth with cruel words or a sharp tongue. She does not play it off as some sort of false fantasy, or a trick of the mind. In all of its simplicity, this chamber of rocks and stones and lights is extraordinary. The rippling flames behind curious eyes dart from one gem to the next, trying to take in all of their shifting colors and dancing lights as she turns to study them all. The twirling damsel only heightens the effect of this dazzling display, though, until finally she can convince herself to stop. The peahen does not know what to think in the presence of such beauty, and she cannot believe how quickly the nature of a cave can distract her from her thoughts.

"What is this place?" Her wonder is apparent even in the brusqueness of her tone. She may have learned to appreciate the glamour of this place, but she is still as rude and conniving as ever. The moment is too glorious to ruin for now though, so the bird works on keeping her mouth firmly shut after speaking.

Let the mottled woman take in the sights of this place, and then you can go back to your usual rude self.


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{She's been changing moods a lot lately, so forgive me if this makes no sense.. @[Branwyn]!}