Mauja killed Torasin.

The words struck him like a rear hoof in the chest and released a breath, a gasp that sounded more like a sob into the night. Provoked by the uttering of those names he found himself thrown back to that day, that place, the vision from a dragons eye of a golden stallion laying thrown in the snow, crimson staining the glittering ground and the long, slender legs, still gushing from the gaping hole in the chest. He remembered the remnants of icy spears on the ground, a glittering tree of frost standing over his dead brother like a silent memento...

"I didn't know" he whispered, the words a second away from tears. The mask of indifference cracked and fell off, in chunks and flakes as the inked face contorted in pain - he had never known Torasin well, but they had understood one another without words. They had been similar, like fruits off the same tree - different yet not that unlike one another. His loss had taken its toll on Lace, as it had on all of them. The death of Solstice not long after had been like a kick to someone already downed, it had been both easier and harder to take - because he had known her longer, had seen her with her family and ached for the now motherless children, and he knew the name of the stallion who murdered her. If he ever found himself face to face with the one carrying the name of d'Artagnan...

But that wasn't what made his heart ache like it had been stabbed by the very same icy lances that killed his friend. It was the look in Mirage's eyes, the pain in her voice, the fact that she had been carrying this burden of knowledge on her shoulders all alone.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, and the voice that blew towards her ears carried by raging winds was like an open wound, red and bleeding, dripping cardinal stains upon the sand. "Why Mirage? Don't you trust me? Don't you... Why did you carry it all by yourself?" He stared back at her and found himself no longer able to hold back the tears. They rolled down the black cheeks like burning rain, shed from unblinking eyes as the pain became too much to withhold.

It didn't matter anymore what she had and hadn't done. It was in the past, there was nothing about it that could be changed - the dice had been cast and now they would have to deal with the consequences. What pained him wasn't her underhanded methods or the cruel determination to get her will through no matter what the cost would be. Maybe it never had been. Lace was an idealist but he knew to separate reality from dreams, he knew that you couldn't walk through life without staining your hooves in some way. It was inevitable, and he was far from innocent himself.
No, the bitter taste on the tongue and the hurt feelings came from being left out. She had been grieving, they all had, but instead of sharing with them she had closed herself in and taken revenge all upon her own shoulders.

All those words of trusting him, of counting on him... Had they ever been true? How could he believe them when she in the most crucial moments chose to walk alone without giving him a chance to where she was heading, or why.

She should know that he wasn't one to follow her trail silently without question. Never was, and never would be...

Dim vales- and shadowy floods-
And cloudy-looking woods,
Whose forms we can't discover
For the tears that drip all over!
Huge moons there wax and wane-
Again- again- again-