Quietly, the mare watches, twisting a curious ear to the footfall of another. Intrigue replaces whatever sense of irritation that formerly possessed the matron and her lips quirk slightly in greeting. The new prospect in question murmurs quietly to the alabaster child and recognition seems to spark between them. Chernobyl pauses in her descent to study the pair and while she is reluctant to have them follow, she chokes on the dismissal lurking vehemently behind her dark lips.

As black eyes narrow on the two youngsters, the matron notes a slight quiver in the white’s smooth veneer. It is fleeting in spite of her careful composure but it is certainly there. Another smug smile lifts the corners of her mouth and she nods quickly at the two. Suddenly she is no longer the only surviving source of tension and amongst the three and for that she is glad. Though, it does little for her opinion of the nameless child that assumes authority because of some self-proclaimed righteousness. She sneers in spite of herself and then turns to continue along her path through the shadows.

These specimens are clearly Basin-bred and Chernobyl cannot help but think of the warmth she experiences with Murdock. She ponders the lightness about him as she listens quietly to the youngsters indulging in flippant gossip in her wake. His touch, his scent, his smile… it all brings an irrevocable sense of happiness to her heart and she wonders if she has ever felt so at home with anyone. Again, her thoughts stray to the “Unicorns” trailing after her. They do not know of her, do not wish to know her and yet she continues to call them… what? Family? Her heart drops with the word and suddenly her chest feels constricted.

But she continues to play their game, an ever diligent pledge to their hopeless cause.

As she draws to the end of her path, she veers left and beneath an overhang of low branches. Their limbs lean low and claw gently along her back as she passes. Turning to glance back at her retinue, her smile broadens with invitation; it feels strange upon her lips but she forces herself to remain passive. Just ahead a small stream bustles by and the clean fragrance of its ascent draws her closer.

Swinging wide so that she may allow her company to peer down into the crystalline waters, she nods. “You see that? Come here, look.” She is patient for a time, though her eyes tell stories that her body cannot. She is lively with intent and while her ideas are many, she is certain about the singular path ahead of her.

She would go to Murdock after this day and they would finally be able to explore together… just like he’d promised.