A follower with no leader, she had no patron, no reason to be walking the warm stones that night. Yet the cadence of her walkers against them resounded in her ears against all reasoning and logic. Could not blame the trip upon cold, for the air was warming with the change of the seasons. All she had gained in this arena of electric sapphire and coal cobblestone was magic, a celestial gift from an immortal figure she did not hold any alliance to. Now, she returned seasons later, a companion at her side and a heart of shattered pearl resting in the cradle of her bones. Left bereft with the departure of her best friend, the one who had held that broken heart when only old scars marred its surface. Those same hands had rebroken it, tarnished it, and then polished over it as if in careless apology with a few departing words. She ached to follow her, to keep true to the promise she'd sworn on her very soul so long ago. But could she? After all, Ktulu still had Ranjiri, still had...Midas. Lakota had been shown no proof, been given no assurances, that Midas was not still in the picture. If he was still entangled with her ex-Chieftess, would she have the heart to be the antagonist that started an affair? Could she be the second best? Was she even strong enough, regardless of what her answers were?

Maybe it was a desire for help and guidance that pulled her to the Veins. Had she a God she believed in, it was likely she'd have gone to them for wisdom, even if they most definitely had better things to do than listen to the romantic woes of a soul that was merely a flicker in the timeline of their eternal life. She liked to believe that maybe they wouldn't turn her away, but the bitter side of her declared that her troubles were nothing in the eyes of a God, even if she did follow them faithfully at every turn and obstacle.

Aodaun was a softly outline silhouette of azure and ivory, big lavender orbs settled worriedly upon her form. I am fine, Ao. Ao whined softly regardless, but said nothing in return, and the two of them continued on.

Of course, with the return of the Earth Lord, there was bound to be someone else perched upon the ever-warm rocks. The stranger was not readily conspicuous, with the darkness and shifting light of the molasses lava tendrils. He was of a deep cocoa color, with red clay mixed within, and he stood well over Lakota's petite stature. Simultaneously he could consume her with how large he was overall in comparison to her own lithe, athletic build meant for speed and agility, flexibility. Right before she turned upon heel to leave, not wanting company very much, Aodaun nudged at her. Please? Her lips twitched inconspicuously.

Truly the snow prince only meant well, wishing she would speak to someone, perhaps gain a friend. Anything to take her mind off Ktulu. Sighing inaudibly she glanced up from where she'd paused, having been stopped before turning, and moved closer without a word in reply to her companion. No use when he was seeing with his own eyes her answer.

"I see I am not the only one on this blasted rock with nothing to do," she spoke, voice the soft velvet purr she could never rid herself of, with a loving hint of sarcasm and aloofness. Stopping a few paces in front of him, she flicked her long plume to rest the ends around her ankle, curled neatly, and cocked one of her hind legs in a very obvious display of ease that one would not normally take in the presence of a stranger. But Lakota was a different specimen. There was a warning in her eyes, should you look, that told of blood and murder in her past. Underestimating her would be your last act of stupidity. A smirk curled one corner of her lips easily, somewhat inviting, somewhat detached. Aodaun stood a perfectly poised statue at her left shoulder, already large as age blessed him with the stature of the might polar bears he'd hailed from. Maybe it wasn't the encounter he'd been hoping for, but at least Lakota was talking.

Like a sunrise his painted irises met her, aware of her presence in the resonating tone of her hooves against the harsh substance below. Lemon and chocolate all rolled into one, massive and curious as he peers at her across the glowing distance set between them, growing ever smaller with each step taken by the shadow mare. Like a predator he watches her, yet with the gentle gaze of a curious creature spying a new animal in its territory. He's large, though they are not close enough for her to compare with her own stature just yet. Intrigue is apparent in his gaze, bright and solid like the precious metal it glorifies. What about her draws curiosity from the pool of his emotions? There is hardly anything worthy of interest, in her eyes. To be looked at like that stirs her insides pleasantly. It has been so long since somebody has gazed upon her and wanted to know more, and as if in silent approval and allowance of this she takes a few imploring steps closer to him, crown tilting in an innocent display of her own curiosity. Her companion rises on large paws and strides after her, keeping pace, dark eyes fixated upon the stranger with a regal, warning look. Nobody touched his princess without proving their worth and reasoning, their intentions. She had suffered enough, he would not stand to see any other wrecking ball come away unscathed while she crumbled to nothingness.

A melody comes from his cocoa kissers, deep and rough like thunder, and she visibly shivers in delight at the masculine sound. How long has it been since she enjoyed the company of a stallion aside from her Chief? It's such an old, nearly foreign sound to her, she cannot help her reaction to it. Quietly she nickered wordlessly back, feeling as if this encounter was sweeping away her conflicted emotions. He intrigued her so, and it allowed the others to quiet and disappear into darkness, choosing instead to focus on this interaction presently happening. Her own sweet, gentle sound is far different from his rougher, more pronounced vocals. It's an...interesting mix to say the least. Prompting from her a few more steps.

His humorous answer inspires a soft, amused chuckle from the lithe lass, and she flicks her plume in a waterfall of ink as she watches him with her vibrant violet eyes. "Perhaps, or maybe I'm looking for something to entertain me," she laughed, lyrics an amused purr, eyes alight and tone teasing. Without her knowledge, he truly had lifted her spirits merely by having an inviting persona and amusing comeback. Something about him was just...interesting. Lakota didn't like being clueless. She wanted to know more.

Tossing her tiara to fix her mane and settle it upon her slim shoulders, she smirked at him. Lakota was not a temptress, or a weak little damsel in distress. She didn't intend to act like one, it was already clear from her actions and their accompanying dictations. "Oliver? Is that so?" She looked him over shamelessly, not caring to explain what it was she was looking for. Maybe it would stroke his ego, good for him. "Though it would undoubtedly amuse me to watch you dither about as you try to figure out my name, I'm far more interested in why you're here as well. I'm Lakota," she quipped, lips curling in a devilish smile, a clear question in her visage. Would he be able to deal with someone like her?

---

OOC: I'm so sorry I didn't realize you had replied ;-;

This isn't her, not really, but she's desperate for some version of normality in a world where she is lost. All she remembers is Ktulu's departure, and the herd meeting. Phaedra had been asked to lead alongside Apollo. She, the image-obsessed thief who rarely showed the seriousness she possessed. Was Lakota nothing? Perhaps it was selfish of her to want to be something more, to want to be greater than a lowly medic at the beck and call of her brethren, used only for healing and then cast aside at the end of the day. She was wilting, useless, and she didn't know what to do about it. So she smiled and teased and smirked her way through the start of this meeting, and tried not to notice the fact that Oliver seemed rather hesitant, unsure of her motives. Mares had a bad reputation, one she hated, but if he wanted to stereotype her then he could remain in his prejudiced land alone. She didn't deserve that after all she had done, all she had gone through.

He seemed strong, as she looked him over in a way that could be seen as sexual but was truly not. Lakota had been played by people like him, only for them to attack her at the moment she was weakest. But as a princess she had ruled with all the knowledge of those who had preceded her. She had never fallen. His relaxed and open smile prompted her own, a genuine smile that was so rarely seen on her features. It was hesitant, and a little shy, but it was true for once. Hopefully he would see that she was trying to be herself. Maybe it wasn't for him, but he was the one given the treatment, so at least she was attempting it.

"Perhaps another day you can see me figuring things out. That's a beautiful name, Lakota. It suits you well."

She felt her face warm and turned her crown shyly to the side, flustered. Nobody had ever told her that so bluntly, not here, and she didn't know how to react. "T-Thank you," she murmured softly, lightly kicking a stone away with her hoof to try and focus on something aside from her own flustered state. But he was kind enough to give her an escape from the intensity she felt- likely uncommon in comparison to mares like Phaedra- by changing the subject to why he was there. She lifted her tiara and placed her mulberry irises upon him, her smile turning wistful and sad.

"The Gods were torn away from us, I'm afraid they aren't here to show you their true glory. Many still come here to pray for their return, or for guidance as in the days before they were taken from us." She moves a little closer as she speaks, her legs taking her where they wish without her conscious approval. When she glances up again, stilling her movement, she is embarrassingly close to Oliver, and she tucks her head away awkwardly and moves a step or two away. It's been so long since she's been in the company of not only a male, but a gentlemanly one, that she doesn't know how to act. It's almost like she's a filly all over again, which is probably not the best impression of seriousness when she's first meeting him but not something she can control. She's easily flustered, he could probably do so much with a few words and she would be helpless, but Lakota's weakness has always been emotion and affection. Nobody ever wanted to come close enough to touch her, never wanted to do so even if they did, so he draws her in with his very presence of kindness and interest.

Together they glance out at the horizon in silence, and at first Lakota doesn't know what she's seeing. Her eyes are so weak, now, for she has spent so long in darkness she doesn't remember the light. She's in such disbelief that even Aodaun pressing against her leg doesn't snap her from her stunned state. Only Oliver gasping her name brings her to, and she still can't make the connection until he breathes it practically into her ear. The sun. The shadow mare gave a strangled gasp as it registers, and Ao gives her a concerned nudge that she is unable to respond to. "The sun...it's...it's really back...Oliver, it's..." He is the only other soul around aside from her princely companion, and she turns her head to him, for just as disaster brings people together, so does auspiciousness. Hope connects them just as strongly as despair, and she stumbles to him, reaching for contact in the light of this tearfully inspiring event.

"It's back! He's back! Oliver the God of the Sun is back!" She rejoices, and Aodaun barks happily at her heels and runs in circles at the sheer hysteric joy that flows from her to him. Should he allow her to touch him, she reaches to press her muzzle to his shoulder, too small to reach any higher, and her legs dance in joyous praise of the light that spills over the both of them like a blanket of warmth and hope.