Sikeax was a woman who could always be careless, to shift into the drift that was what the cold and heartless, to tell everyone just to fuck off without dare a second thought. But by some sort of tragic irony, her occupation within the world threatened her with all sorts of heartbreaks, whether they be death, mental deformities of all sorts, or just the cry that pleads for help after something dark inside the world has enough brute force, teamed with the ability to slaughter and wound through words or through attacks, and the motivation to do such harm all come together to make the end result on what might have been only been an innocent being.
But what would be the world if there wasn't someone to twist and alter minds? Someone had to be aware of every fault in mankind, to add a new reason on the ever-growing list of reasons to die.
Corpses have it simple; you should know this by now. A corpse does not have to worry or think. The dead lived in a state of bliss that Sikeax would gladly drink the poison of the world to take part in.
A selfish move altogether, something to beat herself over again in the night, but then again, she and the rest of the world was already taking sips at that poison. They passed the cup to and fro, drinking each time they thought of all the impurities they could do upon each other.
They drink the whole cup when they attack upon them, drowning their victim in the poison.
She's tired of caring, let's make that the point.
Whatever he chooses to act upon, her eyes trail his depressed, mournful appearance and the slouch in his gait, the dip in his spine and the whimper that slowly slips from his mouth in the same lazy style that water trickles down an old stream dotted with rocks.
In unison, the pair jump, a yip sweeping the area shortly as Hobgoblin leaps upon his feet. Sikeax halts with a heavy lurch backwards, shifting her weight into her hind legs and stamping one front hoof as her tail, once calm and collected, thrashes behind her.
It's not a fight that she's looking for. Fighting was not her thing. Hector had shown her that in the past, trying to seem like she was actually something her family could be proud of dare war come to them, only to make herself a fool and embarrass herself before someone she really loved and cared about. He was one of her best friends and her shoulder to lean on, her protector and provider of self esteem.
How could she even dare let herself be this way?
Face to face with her stranger, a slow, ebbing sensation of threat kisses her lips, pushing against them and smoldering her. Hobgoblin this time around isn't prepared for an act. His bonded, his safety, their safety now stands at the mercy of some disgusting beast. He knows that they are in trouble, but she is so far away and out of his reach that he can't grab her emotions when she unintentionally pushes him away.
Her space is now being invaded by the smaller male, watching with stone-cold, dead eyes as he rears to meet her height. Anyone who knew Sikeax on a personal basis could tell you without a second thought that she wasn't the type to assert dominance, but at a time like this, it's a whole new story.
For once, she's made the choice to take no one's shit.
A step to made forward, snorting loudly as his twisted and gnarled horn pressed into her sunburn-scarred nose, throwing her chest out as the temptation to rear(something she's only done a few times before in entire life) fills her chest. Hobgoblin snarls as if to add emphasis to her show of dominance.
It's finally enough as she collects on her hind legs, rearing up above him. She only wants her space, and now invaded and forced into a position to use her hated size against him, it's the only way out.
She doesn't strike out to him nor cry out in war as she crashes back down to earth. Her hooves pummel the earth once. The ice, unbroken and quiet, refuses to crack between the pair's show of might.
He rambles and she listens just as he has done for her in the past. Touch slices her skin, building up the rare feelings of rage as it continues, insulted and driven on by some sort of need to prove that she isn't made to walked over.
A quick feeling of being liquid physically fills her as Hobgoblin changes shape, finding his wings and spreading them wide, flaring them so that his size is exaggerated, screaming in the process to let what he see's as a challenger know that he is very much willing to do what Sikeax will not do.
He's flying within seconds, soaring towards the painted stallion colt with talons outstretched and teeth wide, intending to grab, bite, and scratch whatever he can get a hold of. Nothing is done on Sikeax's end to halt his attack in fear of what he might do to her in return.
"Then why are you here?" She questions with the same tone used before, standing in the cave and watching him make his escape to the outside, followed by Hobgoblin's desperate need to pay vengeance upon the stranger.
There is nothing else worth giving him.

OOC: Why do you do this to me ;-;
So much muse and such new sides of Sikeax.

Hobgoblin is a Wyvern from this post on.

@[Ashamin]
"If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?"

Sikeax;

i'm missing the beauty in your soul