The idea of slaves had long been present in the mind of the Crux. She would prefer to simply kill the impure skyrats and their inferior, hornless cousins; she knew, however, that this would be a near impossibility. The shadow-mare was not a stupid soul - far from it, in fact - and nor was she naive. A world in which unicorns reigned supreme was not the equivalent of a world devoid of pegasi and equines, though of course this would be the preferable one. But their rise to power would be much more likely to be accompanied by the enslavement of their inferiors. The pegasi would have to die, that was for certain, or their wings ripped from their shoulders. A sadistic smile spread across her maw: that would surely break their spirits. The equines, though, had always proved easier to control, and this would be no different.

A chilly wind scattered her ebony banner into rivulets down her nape. The multicolored feathers woven into the strands of hair twirled in the breeze, casting off a flash of blue, a flicker of green, a gleam of red. The colors stood out against the dark-hued bodice, glared against the white setting. There was no hiding for this femme in this place. She stood out like a sore thumb, a black speck against a sea of pearl. Luckily, she was not in a position in which she would need to hide. Their herd, formerly of the World's Edge, occupied these lands now. But it would only be for a little while. They would take their home from their inferiors. She would stand for no less.

Amber orbs caught movement on the horizon. Auds pricked; pistons picked up the pace. It had been barely discernible, a slight flash of dull colors, almost blending perfectly into the surroundings. But the shadow-mare had been on the alert for just such a movement. She had no desire to be surprised in this barren, frigid wasteland. She carried herself as quickly as possible over the snow-covered terrain, and it was not until she drew nearer that she was able to identify the newcomers. A wave of relief washed over her, surprising her. Call it motherly love, if you will, but it was a foreign feeling to the Crux, and she dismissed it as such. She simply recognized that her daughter had arrived unharmed from the rather interesting happenings after the Battle of the Edge, and it pleased her.

She slowed her approach, and though she was sure that the pair would have seen her, she called a greeting. It was not a friendly sound, but neither was it a cry of warning. She would accept them in her lands (for she had come to view the Steppe as just that), but she would not be overly welcoming. Even her offspring would have to prove herself in this herd. As she joined them, she was appalled to see the companionship that Sno was keeping: a rather scrawny-looking equine followed the ice princess, his head hung in a rather submissive manner. This sparked her curiosity, pushing back the sense of disgust she had previously felt. She ought to have known that no daughter of hers would be kept company by a lowly equine.

"Sno, darling," she simpered in way of greeting, the smile that graced her plain features never reaching her eyes. "How lovely to see you again." She purposefully ignored the little equine, a snub meant to show her position as one very far above his. She briefly considered a more personal greeting, but having seen her daughter just once in several seasons, and that during the invasion, persuaded her to live and let be. Finally, she glanced at the equine male, a haughty, disdainful look in her orbs. "I see you've brought a friend home," she sneered. "A new plaything, my dear?"

[W/C | 646]