There was something very disconcerting about the way the mare grinned, her jack-o-lantern lips curling grotesquely - and yet, that was which made her oddly captivating, too, the blend of the morbid and the childish. Still, she was not one he wanted to upset. If she did, would her revenge, spurned by the child-like spectrum of emotions, ever end? If he shunned her, would she ever forgive him? He found himself doubting it, and watched her with wary eyes, intrigued in spite of his reservations. He would have to tread carefully, so as to not disturb neither her nor whatever darkness that swept through the forest.

"Us and our descendants," she said, and barely had she finished speaking before the earth rumbled beneath them, quaking and shivering as something fought its way up through layers of dirt and soft loam. Mauja's heart skipped a beat, then began to hammer forcefully, pumping out adrenaline - fight or flight? He held his ground, eyes fixed upon the bony white remnants that slowly rose in front of them. What.. the? Unnatural, dead, they rose, three horses, skeletons standing upon solid hooves, hollow eye sockets looking at nothing in particular. A shiver went down the King's spine, uncertainty plaguing him - what was she doing? What did she want? Why was she dragging these up from the earth? A memory, a flash of an undead colt upon a spike of ice, and a further search, looking for dead bodies that walked... but this was different. The three revenants came closer, and Mauja ground his teeth together. He didn't like this. He didn't like being outnumbered by dead horses. He took an involuntary half-step backwards, head high, white-rimmed eyes glancing at October to gauge her face. She didn't seem angry, or cruel, just - what, playful? Excited? Madness.

Before they could touch him, those bony noses, before he could decide whether to stay or back off, they fell to the earth with the clack of bone against bone. Somewhere, a flock of ravens took flight, shrieking, but Mauja stood rooted at the spot. His heart was fleet-footed in his chest, rapid and light, blood soaring through his veins - discarded, like toys, lay three sets of equine skeletons. Just in front of him, hemming him in slightly on the sides, they lake, skulls dragged up for the world to see again. Who were they? Who had they been? And who was she, this mare of death and darkness, her coat so dull and lightless? Mauja swallowed once, trying to calm his heart and regain his composure. Slowly, something smooth and icy slid across his eyes, and a deep voice, so steady, as if his breaths had not quivered at all, broke the silence. "Interesting," he said, leaning down to give one skull a cautious sniff and at the same time expecting it to jump up and headbutt him any second. "The now dead have caused these marks." "What killed them, I wonder?" he murmured, expecting no answer from anyone.