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The stallion remained silent, to Nyx's surprise. She kept her gaze level on him, but could gather no response from him - he looked cold, but that was about it. She found herself drawn back into her own thoughts, of the racism she had only recently become acquainted with. She had witnessed it in Isilme, although her tender age had saved her from being involved in it; herds slaughtering one another simply because they were horned, winged or naked. To the steel soldier it seemed a foolhardy reason to start a war, and she had vowed to herself long ago never to judge anyone based on their outward appearance. Some of the nicest individuals she had ever met had been hornless, and some of the biggest bastards had been unicorns. It was simply the luck of the draw, so it was perhaps understandable that she was repulsed by the idea of Mauja and d'Artagnan going around slaughtering based entirely on the presence of a horn. The silence continued, moving past what could reasonably be considered companionable and into well-this-is-awkward territory. But the spotted man's lack of any sort of explanation spoke volumes to Nyx - the silence was deafening. "I'll take that as a yes," she said, quirking an elegant brow. She wondered how often his pale fur had turned red, how often his horn had torn into a throat or a heart. She wondered if he had torn mothers from foals, brothers from sisters; if he showed mercy to children or sent them the same way as their horned kinsmen. She thought of families torn apart, herds ripped to pieces, all because of a spiralling piece of bone. "Why?" she asked. Oh, she was pushing her luck now; she did not want to provoke him, but she had to know for her own peace of mind. She was beginning to think there was something wrong with her because she lacked the murderous instincts of the two stallions. Her only kills had been in self-defence, and all had left her plagued with guilt for days and weeks afterwards - she could not imagine seeking the sensation out. "I'm not one to judge, but I find myself curious as to why you think a horn makes one superior." Her voice was level, body language neutral; she didn't want him to feel like she was targeting him or scolding him. He was merely the source of the answers she had craved for years, an example of a phenomenon he had never understood. |
Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.
