Going north had been a great idea. As aware as he was of the close proximity to the Basin and the dangers the inhabitants could pose to him, the threat of a heatstroke was far more imminent than any unicorn attack. Thus, for once Lace had made a rare journey to the distant icy tundra in search of a milder climate, where the sun didn't beat quiet as harshly.

He might have expected more snow to cover the ground, but even though the glacier to the east was one of the few white areas that remained after the relentless gnawing of the summers heat it was much better than the mind-numbing wall of dry, humid air that clung around the coasts. Much, much better, to the point where he even had the energy to explore the green tundra as he roved along the edges of the frozen wall.

The vast plain was surprisingly full of life. The wildlife inhabiting these arctic regions had their busiest period of life at this time of year and every hill, every burrow and small shrub was alive with activity. Frenetic to the point of seeming hectic he watched birds fly through the sky, lemmings and hares running for their lives with foxes chasing after them in order to feed growing cubs. It was a world the lonely stallion had never taken the time to witness before, and he found himself stunned to silence as his mind opened to something he should have realized long ago; that the horses weren't the only ones living to the fullest in Helovia.

"The arrogance of us must seem endless to the others" he murmured, passing the thought along to the dragon that soared high above ground, she too joining in with the system by hunting to fill the hole in her belly. She had little time for the woes of her bonded, but even though she was in the middle of something she couldn't resist returning a smug thought, a glittering sensation of congratulation and a sense of 'about-bloody-time'.

The silver-maned stallion snorted, too used to the snarky nature of his friend to even bother putting up an act of hurt - he actually agreed with her, but was loath to admit his own stupidity, even to himself.
"Not stupidity" Fajira said mildly, to the surprise of the equine, "only narrow mind and egoistic."

Ouch. That actually did hurt for real. But before he had a chance to retort the dragon closed herself in and Lace found himself standing alone on the grass-clad plain, feeling smaller than he had for a very long time.

d'Artagnan the Nightshade
But with the beast inside, there's no where we can hide

A figure approaching from the north made the stallion turn his head. Black-rimmed ears pricked in curiosity, an emotion that was made scarce as the figure came closer.

Unicorn. A word like a curse, bitten off and spat out onto the ground like something foul, enough to make the grass blacken and whither from the dark implications that followed with it. Many years had passed since the stallion laid eyes upon his first spear-bearer. He had been young then, much too young; he remembered how he had frowned at the sight, looking at the creature with a mixture of pity and disgust. Later he had come to acknowledge that they were just as different in personality as equines were, that the horned race held both kindness and violence, nobility and cruel savagery - they were just like his own kin.

But somehow these elegant, armed beings just couldn't let him maintain the respect that had grown in his mind after meeting some of their finest, most noble leaders. Time and again they committed atrocities in the name of purity, actions that once had made a proud Raindancer cry - before he too took up arms to defend himself and his people, against Lace's very own brethren.

Had he not sided with their cause once, in order to break the choke-hold the Equine Empire held on the free races of the world? Had he not been dubbed a traitor to his own race, frowned upon and exiled for his association with the 'twigheads'?

Many years had passed since then, and he had thought himself free from prejudice and racist tendencies. He had believed himself above such narrow-minded foolishness, able to forgive their harsh words, their thoughtless actions, their petty arrogance.

So why was it that as he regarded the approaching unicorn, a loathsome taste rose like bile to settle on the tongue, a feeling as dark and heavy and wary as the gaze that met the baleful stare of the blood bay. It didn't show on the calm, almost serene expression of the face, went past unnoticed even as tempered muscles tensed, prepared in the face of someone he knew to belong with the fiends of the north - but surely the eyes must reveal it, no matter how much the equine tried to keep it at bay.

"Aye, I am indeed" he replied, reserved but not entirely without patience - or kindness, as strange as it felt to offer something like that to an enemy. At the very least Lace didn't want to come out as a war monger - and in his eyes there was a debt to pay the opposing forces, for using such underhanded tactics in their latest clash. "Summer's been hot this year... the climate here is more to my liking."

He couldn't help it; even when faced with a stallion that was as likely to lash out with that glittering glass horn of his as he was to keep conversing, the grulla seemed unable to contain his curiosity as he watched the other. He hadn't forgotten their previous meetings, neither the figure dancing across a battlefield, the voice of cold, harsh reason in a desperate attempt to recover what had been stolen - nor could Lace forget that he, somehow, had come to owe his life to this stallion. He had been saved once, shielded from an attack by a giant earthen monstrosity, protected by peculiar magic wielded by this nameless stranger - to his own surprise and humiliation.

Did the unicorn remember that too? Was he going to take back that one action of kindness now, as their paths had crossed again? Would they be spilling blood on this green meadow, battle until life had been stolen beneath the radiance of the summer sun?

"It's a shame..." the silver-maned mused quietly. "Pity, that there must be so much hatred. Imagine what could be created, if only everyone could get along."

The look he gave the other stallion grew regretful, almost saddened for a moment; then the gold-dusted knight turned away to watch a dark filly as she approached, offering a faint, distant smile at her in return of the greeting.

d'Artagnan the Nightshade
But with the beast inside, there's no where we can hide