He regarded her patiently as she mulled over his words, the masked face impassive despite the multitude of emotions that writhed on the inside. He wanted to return home and he wanted nothing more than to leave the place behind like he had done so many other lands before. He wanted to go back to the cool shadows and the mysterious goddess he mistrusted yet respected, and yet he still had tasks to complete, set him by no less than two of her brothers. He wanted to see Mirage, but didn't know whether she was alive, whether she was in Helovia, whether crossing paths with her again would make him happier or weighed down by the passing years like never before.
And then there was the matter of his son.... The old elation at the thought of the long-legged colt, so similar to himself, came over him as a rush of mellow wind and softened the aging heart by sweeping away all doubt. It didn't really matter where he went, after all, as long as he would be able to watch over and aid the boy. He would have to work hard to mend all his old relations if a solution to the.. eh.. problem was to be reached, and where better to start than the Edge?
But why, oh why was it so hard to let go of that old suspicion?
"It's mixed because Qian made it so" he couldn't help but mutter, unable to let the issue drop when the mare tried to defend the two Kings. "Racism isn't something you just grow out of, Nyx, you of all should know that. Look what became of Isilme - if it was as simple as a teenage phase to overcome your home would still be standing."
Then he sighed again and shook his head.
"I really hope you are right though. If they've mended their ways... I know not all the unicorns of the Basin shared the same ideals, perhaps not even before the war, and maybe the others have seen sense..."
It wasn't even the desire to live with ones own kind that he objected to, even though it seemed pointless to himself - how were they different, after all, save for those bloody horns they kept waving about like crowns - but rather the tendency to disregard talent and worth based solely on appearance. It was the same as saying that no black horse was able to survive in the desert or that all pinto's were unintelligent. Short-sighted, narrow-minded, hypocritical bullshit.
Well. Lace didn't really believe that these things vanished in a horse overnight, but nor was he going to stoop to that same level and deny the bastards a chance to prove him wrong.
He smiled affectionately and reached out to touch a velvet nose to Nyx's cheek, only half aware of Fajira's attempts to goad the lion back into the game.
"I yield" he half-chuckled. "Couldn't very well back down after that challenge, now can I? Besides" he admitted, relaxing as he moved to fall in beside her, "I've missed the old family, and you, too. Don't know how many of them are left... But I'll have all the time to find out now, won't I!"
He inclined his head and motioned for the pale mare to lead the way, not ignorant to the irony of the situation. Last time he had been the one to guide her to the seaside forest, and now the roles were reversed. It remained to be seen of course whether he would be allowed to remain in the herd, whether he could stomach bowing his neck to the likes of Mauja and Torleik... but at least he would try. That had to count for something, right?
Fajira, meanwhile, recognizing defeat, let off a disgusted sound and dropped the battered, bloody rabbits head, flicked the tail in silent contempt at the lion that refused to fight and swept off among the trees to look for prey on her own. She was not so indulgent as to coddle the younger predator - he may be white but he was no dragon, and if he didn't want to continue then she would not make him.
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