Ophelia watched Mauja raise one brow in a rather cool and perfect explanation of what she assumed to be feeling. To her, the expression was a playful accusation of her compliments about his personage in light of the Grey's most recent alliance. It was also a display of slight disbelief, she thought, but was he confused about her truth behind her words or the whether or not she was simply being flattering? Either way, Ophelia chuckled a little, the sound more hollow than she would have liked, but it was as much as she could manage after just fighting. The mare smirked. "What I speak is truth. Others would be foolish to ignore such obvious qualities, especially in light of tension they feel for you and yours."
The alabaster mare thought on his herdland after a brief overview of her history with Jackal. She smiled softly. "If those snowy mountains were not full of loyal followers, I would have turned my band north, but alas," she teased slightly with another smile. "The desire alone for flawless landscape is not enough drive to harm friendships." Not to mention that the Basin was massive and full of warriors, including Deimos. Ophelia had no interest in seeing him again any time soon.
Ophelia awoke and finally discussed something that had been weighing on her mind. Their shared dream. She had not thought that such a thing was possible until she realized that he was trapped in some sort of alternate dimension. The alabaster mare pressed her muzzle against him, able to feel the way his nostrils flared ever too quickly for the calm moment. She breathed slowly, calmly, looking up into his eyes with as much patience and gentleness that she could display.
She listened to him explain the beginning, and Ophelia nodded quietly. "I remember seeing you in the ocean," she explained, brows furrowing as she recalled the memory. "I ran, though it was not my intention to run from you, merely... run. I was compelled beyond my conscious desires; I am unsure how to explain it," she said, stumbling over her words and halting a step verbally. How could she explain the feeling of having to do something with little reason why? Especially when in a dream? She had no words to describe the ethereal grip that had tightened her muscles and moved them forward.
"The world did fall behind you until there was a cliff that descended to darkness at the entrance to the cave. I walked with roses in my wake and you walked with gold, like molten, sparking metal. We spoke and wandered forward until we found a golden pool of liquid. You touched it and your eyes turned to solid gold; I did not know what to make of that. Demons pressed in on our sides, and after we spoke, the ground beneath you crumbled," she murmured, clearly recalling every fine detail, every shared breath and every sound. The words were distinct in her mind down to the enunciation and accent, and she wondered how much about her memories she let on when she shared her words with him now?
Ophelia was not purposefully hiding her perfect memory from anyone, but she was not the type to shout out that she had a unique ability and a curse. She did not desire the fame or recognition (or even pity) that might follow that being public knowledge.
Finally, she gently pulled her muzzle from his, gaze moving to the activity around them in the center of the battle field. Most of who had fallen were risen, and many more were waiting. She sighed heavily, blinking exhaustion from here eyes. "I fear that I may have lingered beyond what I should," she murmured. Ophelia offered him a kind smile. "You are welcome to stay, if you wish, but I will not keep you."
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