The scene was picturesque: the unicorn mare and her pegasus mate, their tiny foal sheltered behind their much larger forms. It was a scene of new life, of serenity, a little piece of heaven in a cold, hellish world. And they were out to mess it all up. The shadow-mare was not moved by the 'cuteness' of the goings-on - after all, what heart had she to speak of? Her open gaze and easy manner had evaporated, disappeared behind the mask she slipped on so easily, as though returning to the comfort of an old blanket, cast aside in adulthood but longed for nonetheless. Perhaps it was her true nature, to hide behind impassioned, gleaming orange eyes, to delight in the discomfort of those she deemed lesser. Perhaps it was simply the easier path to take. Or perhaps she was, in her truest sense, a mixture of both, a complex creature with complex emotions, thoughts, reasons.

It would have been all too easy, the picture that painted itself across her mind. The mare was tired, the jackal knew this all too well, having gone through the birthing process herself. She would not put up much of a fight. Between the two of them, she and Mauja could easily bring the pegasus down, for though he was clearly a fighter, so were they. And then the foal, so young and trusting, so incapable of escape. Well, they would make quick work of that. And then she'd had a few more trinkets to hold as trophies, she and her King would have had a wonderful bonding experience, and they could return home in high spirits.

And then Mauja spoke in earnest tones, and her loyalty to him was tested, torn as she was between distant, unknown feelings for him and the desire to rip, to tear, to kill. A moment's hesitation, but her ties to the FrostHeart held, and the brush of his banner against her hocks thrilled her for more reasons than one. Immediately, she understood that there was something deeper here, something of which she was not aware. Perhaps a spark of jealousy triggered in her mind, but she brushed it aside. There was no time for that, no room in her ever-whirring mind, not when she ran through scenarios, possibilities. After all, hadn't she seen the unicorn - he'd called her Delinne, hadn't he? - in the invasion. If nothing else, she deserved respect for fighting with them, didn't she?

Even if she had violated the laws of supremacy.

"Don't you know what he's done?" he asked, and the Empress stepped forward, standing by the King's shoulder. She cast him a look of complete dismay, then returned her amber gaze to the scene before her. Dismay shifted to pity as she listened to the stallion's protective reply. The shifts were easy, perfect, a lifetime of manipulation beneath the surface allowing her to react with the precision of a well-trained actress. She waited, biding her time, allowing Delinne the chance to speak. And then her own lyrics sprang forth, a liquid, poisonous tone designed to draw her prey into her clutches, to convince others of her truthfulness. Perhaps there was even a touch of magic in it, for her argument sounded convincing even to her own auds. "Darling, as lovely as a family is, don't you think he sounds a bit too defensive?"

She offered a sad smile to the mare, acting for all the world like a damsel that had once been wronged in a very similar way - though in what way the skyrat had done wrong, she was not sure. That, she would leave to Mauja. "Speaking strictly from experience, dear, I'd be a bit worried about that, if I were you." Still her tones are liquid, flowing, enticing. How easy it was to slip into this role, to participate in this deception. And how fun. Had they ever done something like this before? Or had their exchanges always been biting words and wariness, or, before that, seduction and power plays? She had caught the slight quirk of his mouth, the glint in his orbs. How dangerous would they be in these new roles that they had put on, this new kinship that they shared?

"Talk talk talk."