He spoke of his pleasure in Nyx finding a safe haven and children. The iron girl had lead a peaceful, blessed existence, as though the universe was making up for her painful first few months of life. "oh, she was certainly different," said the mare with a wry smile. "i just always had the feeling that i wasn't enough for her, that i was a failure in her eyes. when i was born blind, i think she thought it was a reflection on her, as though it was a sign of weakness in her that she could not mother a healthy child. when dexter arrived, so strong and perfect, i think she thought all her birthdays had come at once." Her mother had been a selfish, cruel woman in many ways, and had had an eye for perfection. She had chosen the strongest man she could find to father her children, yet Nyx had still come out wrong. "i would love you to teach me more of my heritage sometime, father." She knew nothing of his parents, or even his life before Isilme; there was so much she didn't know about the man who made her. She nodded numbly as he mentioned that her leaving of Isilme had likely saved her; he had a point. She had seen the destruction the final war had caused, and did not have faith that she would have survived it.

He asked her to walk with him, and the mare obligingly followed. She was keen to discover a way through the glass wall and into the safety of the herd beyond, as she felt exposed here, with a wide open space behind her and the peculiar barricade blocking her escape route in front of her. She pranced before him, pressing her shoulder into the wall at intervals in the hope of discovering a gap. "maybe one of the residents has to command it to move?" Magic was usually tied to one individual, like her storm magic had been created by her, and only she could stop the storms she made. As she wandered, still seeking entry, her sire asked her of the children she had mothered. "five in total. my sons were chased away as soon as they reached manhood, but my daughters remained with me all their lives. it was wonderful to see them grow - one or two of them had your eyes." She beamed at him - depending on their sire, some of her children had gained Nato's queer eye colour, the genetics of which must be laying dormant in Nyx's makeup. "and what of you, father? have you taken any other mares since my mother?" She assumed the answer was yes; he was a handsome man, after all, and stallions did have their needs.