Snö hissed as he recoiled, demanding answers from her, answers she would not give. Who was he to question her? Would she be even as stupid as to tell her name to a member of the fabled Gray, to endanger the entire herd? Any satisfaction that may have been given from landing hoof upon hide was but a small satisfaction to the roaring, carnivorous animal within her. The pretty varnish closed her mouth firmly, hungering to lunge forward again, to attack and maim, and instead she shook her head firmly, lifting her crystal eyes and backing away, tasting bitter blood where she bit the side of her mouth. "Leave," Snö growled tersely, a low rumbling in her chest as she dropped her head, curling her neck to train her frosted horn upon him. "I cannot... deal with this. I will not." She continued on stubbornly, mouth curling petulantly. Suddenly all her reserves of hate and rage and pent-up frustration had dissipated, replaced by cold, cool calm.

Interrupted, naturally, by the mare she met a while ago, Chernobyl the annoying. Snapped back into irritation, she swung around to glare at the dark mare, driven beyond frustration. "Chernobyl," Snö says tersely, glaring at her from icy eyes. "Do not call me a child, or a twit. I am... forget that. Do not insult me again." For a minute she milled, mutinous and venomous in her thought. Chernobyl would pay for insulting Snö, and the varnish 'child' would sink to any lengths to get 'it', whatever her revenge might be. No matter how long it may take, the dark mare would pay for making fun of her for absolutely no reason. What had gotten this mare so haughty? And... if this mare was of the Plague, for what reason did she want to keep this stallion intact? A few measly bruises would do nothing but strengthen him. So what the hell was she thinking? Perhaps she thought Snö- Snö of all unicorns!- would reveal the secret to him. No. Fucking. Way. "I, sir, apologize for attacking you. It's simply my time of month. Excuse me." With one last, furious glare, the varnish spun on her haunches, wind whipping her mane and tail, clawing her pale coat.

The snow was thick and heavy, swirling cold and stinging on her as the wind carried it swiftly over the snowscape, the ocean roaring. The salt stung her nostrils, so familiar and yet so different here in the North, and it brought back memories, memories of another family. If only the Edge was theirs. Soon, Snö hoped, let it be soon.