With the ice shattered around her hoof, Ghost lost herself in a memory of her mother, Seiren, who too had possessed a cold kind of magic. Ghost doubted she caused much trouble with her pathetic hailstorms, but it struck a disturbing chord of similarity and the Cadaverous wondered that, in spite of all her efforts, she would end up like her worthless dam anyway. Her face scrunched up in annoyance and frustration, pent up anger simmering in her eyes and her body tensed at the sudden welling of emotion that she didn’t know how to control. She felt like she was coming apart seam-by-seam and, for once, she really didn’t care. It hurt to bury her heart each time it dared to so much as skip a beat or furiously race and she stuffed her own feelings into a box to never be opened. It was with so much desire that she wanted break the mould she had made for herself, but it wasn’t that simple and a 5 year habit was not broken in a day.

Her troubled thoughts, however, were banished to accommodate the sight of Essetia along with her pale friend, which was immediately the subject of Fantôme’s attention, who accompanied her. Ghost watched the two wolves for a moment before she managed to greet Essetia with a rather lack lustre smile, but still her expression was friendly and hinted at what appeared to be relief. The Cadaverous was fond of the bay spy; Essetia had a homely familiarity that made Ghost feel better just by being next to her and was perhaps one, if not the only one, horse she actually felt at ease around. “What spies?” she said, returning the jest with a smirk and a wink. They only needed to look like two conversing friends to the rest of the world.

Ghost clenched her teeth through the crudeness of the girl’s next comment, though she knew it was said jokingly and it wasn’t necessarily untrue, it struck a tender place and she swallowed the hurt that was all her own fault. “You too, I thought you might have left us again” she raised a brow and returned the remark with as much bite as had been offered and played along to Essetia’s tone.

After that, however, a discontent grimace wove onto her features and Ghost found herself considering the clever girl before her, wondering if her own lacking had disappointed this spy who was just as capable as Ghost when it came to the field of espionage. In the midst of her warring thoughts, she stressed over telling Essetia of her discontent and not knowing if she could open the door to her troubles so another might see them. Could she trust Essetia with her worries and her weaknesses? Perhaps it might make her look unfit for the position she held, but Ghost worried more that she would be made lesser in the eyes of a mare whose opinion she cared about. It had taken her so long to build just one tiny bridge between herself and another, was she really going to risk burning it?

"The Dragons Throat may not be that large, but the troubles on my mind are” she conceded with a sigh as she tiptoed into uncomfortable territory. 

There, she’d said it. 

The detached banshee, who had once preferred the comfort of loneliness, had finally admitted that she is (and never was) as infallible as she liked to pretend.

In effort to actually do something to stop her mind from descending into worry over what she was saying, Ghost ushered for Essetia to follow her into the first part of the Caves. The others would have to follow when they got here.

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@Essetia uhhhhhhhhh angsty Ghost? D: