As the Glazier mentions the Basin, Nyx feels herself stiffen. Her thoughts immediately travel to Deodat, and how dreadfully awkward it would be if relations with the Basin soured. Not that she would blame the stallion for marching straight into the icy tundra and slaying the colt like a lover scorned; impulsiveness is a wonderful thing.

Love her? The stallion repeats her question, but still the ironheart stays silent, waiting for the outpouring of emotion that will surely follow. His high-held head lowers, although he does not entirely relax - Nyx is no stranger to removing the tension from stallions, but it's usually a lot harder than simply asking them a question. To put it politely, her body is usually more useful than her mouth for that particular end. To put it not so politely, she hasn't met a problem that can't be solved with a good hard rutting. For most men, that's the cure to all ills.

His face hardens - again, Nyx is more accustomed to other things hardening around her, rather than facial features. She doesn't mean that arrogantly, as she is far from the most beautiful creature in the world, with her bland colouring and her somewhat butch build. But her lazy self-confidence - not to be confused with arrogance - and lack of fucks to give about most worldly issues is usually just what stallions want to hear. They don't want some whining oaf of a woman who starts thinking up wedding vows the second she meets them, or who spends her time begging for their eternal love, or who makes them swear a hundred times over that no, her ass doesn't look fat. They want someone with a sharp wit, with a mouth as vulgar as theirs, who doesn't equate sex with love and who doesn't demand devotion in exhange for her body. Nyx's anti-monogamy stance is, in the vast majority of cases, just what men like. Most despise it as much as she does, and embrace a mare who looks down on couples with the same derision that they do.

His ears flip backwards and he turns away, but still the silver soldier stands her ground. When he answers, it is neither a yes or a no - he speaks of love grown across time, rather than on the spur of the moment, and the mare's head dips in an agreeing nod, even though he's facing the other direction. Then, to her considerable surprise, he returns the question, asking about her experience of matters of the heart. A huffed heh is all she can initially say, until her shock subsides and she composes her mind enough to articulate a response. It shouldn't surprise her so much - she'd asked him a personal question, it's only fair she gets one in return.

But the mare is not one to mince her words. He might not like her answer, but she is brutally honest to a fault. "My outlook on life is a bit, ahem, different to most," she begins. How does she explain her opinion without coming across as a harlot? Not that she cares if he thinks that, but still, she would rather not gather that reputation if she can help it. Should she meet her end in the near future, she would far rather be remembered as that silver-tongued warrior who never backed down rather than that rancid whore who spread her legs more times than she'd eaten grass. "To put it bluntly, I don't believe in monogamy. I don't really believe in love, either. I've borne many children during my life, but none of their fathers have meant anything to me. I believe in strength, my dear Glazier. When I lived in the wilds outside Helovia, it was my duty as a herd mare to produce children for my king, but because I am a warrior, I do have standards. It may sound harsh, but life is too short to produce weak children who won't survive past foalhood, so I began to test my prospective suitors in battle. Only if they defeated me did they get to bed me." Those that didn't? Well, they could take their blue balls elsewhere, thank you very much.

"So, to answer your question - no, I have little experience in matters of the heart, because I don't believe in offering said heart out on a silver platter. It means I don't have to endure problems like yours, because it matters little to me if the father of my foal has dozens of other women on the side. In fact, I'd be quite alarmed if he didn't. We're not fucking swans - we don't mate for life. Sure, I have a certain amount of respect for couples whose love lasts their whole lives, but that isn't how I choose to operate. So if I was to give you advice, it would be that my way of living ensures you never have to worry about getting your heart broken. There's a lot to be said for it. If this experience has put you off monogamy for the forseeable future, then you're more than welcome to join me in this particular mindset. It's not perfect, but it works for me. Might work for you, too." She flashes him a small grin. Join the dark side - we have cookies.