I’m quite certain that Chernobyl has nothing to do with consumables and at that, nothing sweet.

Myrddin smirked with amusement, but also a tinge of annoyance. This mare reminded him of another barbed unicorn, Sorcha. She too had deflected his compliments, and yet this was not even a compliment. He was merely commenting on her name. For the life of him, he really couldn't understand why the trend with being so hostile and cold seeming, was taking over all the mares. He didn't find it to be an expression of strength, but actually quite the opposite. He found mares who were so guarded and quick to reject a compliment, actually quite cowardly and insecure seeming. Then again, without his sight, his judgement of such things could be skewed, so he neglected to comment.

A Haruspex… someone with knowledge I would assume, as being a warrior is clearly not your strong suit. How did you come by such a title? Or does it only come with age…?

At this, Myrddin laughed heartily, shaking his old head with gay amusement. Oh the assumptions of the young..."If you would think that young-one, then maybe it is best that only the very old typically hold this position. He was not insulted by her comments, as one younger than he might have been. And why was him being a warrior out of the question? Was his body not riddled with scars? Was his site not taken from him? Only a few knew how that actually came to pass; how could this mare know that it had not come as the result of a battle? In truth, Myrddin had fought and won many a battle. True, in his latter days guiding those in power more suited him, but he would not run from a battle. "Age helps insofar that I have a deeper understanding and relationship with the God's. I have seen enough of this vast world to understand the implications and images that they give me." He replied, fully answering her question, once his laughter had subsided.

I’ve come… to forget things that are well meant to be forgotten. At this, Myr's features grew stern and hard. "Nothing is meant to be forgotten, youngling." He reprimanded, his voice unyielding and his reply quick. "She who forces her mind to forget, is doomed to relive the same mistakes of her past, for all eternity." Was this was the mare had shirked his compliment? Because she had a troubled past? Don't we all? he thought coldly. Was this the trend of the mares, that he had wondered about earlier? This was the disease which they all shared, that they thought they were special in their suffering? That they are too weak to fast their past, so they necessarily close it off, becoming mute to the lessons it could teach? Flatly, Myrddin waited for the mare to reply.

[OOC: Sorry I'm so late!]