I would like that, but... She hung eagerly on his words, almost leaning forward as if he might whisper the last ones and she was afraid to miss whatever it is he would say. 'But what?' she wondered, dense mind lost in her own carefree life. She'd never turned down an opportunity to visit another herd land and even if he didn't want to stay... well, what harm could coming to the borders do? Politics. She was an idealist, a child that wanted to live in a world of fluffy bunnies and cotton candy. She had once asked someone 'what makes someone strive for evil?' She never did get her answer. But she wasn't a philosopher by any stretch of the imagination anyway, and the question had soon been forgotten with the blowing wind.

As for the owl... Kahlua was admittedly a little disappointed when Irma did nothing more but stare at her. She was so used to companions preening or otherwise showing delight at her compliments, but perhaps that was just the way of owls. She had never really met one before. And then finally, it seemed like ages to the eager girl, he agreed. Hesitantly, perhaps, but Kahlua more or less ignored the overtones- if on purpose or through childish lack of understanding was up for debate. Blame herself? Kahlua didn't even blame the world. Things happened, things would be what they would be, and she would dance through life regardless, perhaps with a few tears shed along the way to make herself feel better, if they were needed.

“Well come on then!” Could she have sounded any happier? Doubtful. After all, she had (in her mind) saved a depressed, lost wanderer from a life of solitude. And what was it that Resplendence had thought? Does the girl ever stop bouncing? Sort of. Yes, in that she did know how to hold still for a few moments if need; but no, in that when she was happy... you knew it. She took off at a trot, her gait springy and light, as they went alternating to a walk when she got tired or needed a break. Poor Mauja. What had he gotten himself in to?

As they made their way to the Edge, the girl busied herself with talking about nonsense that the unicorn probably care nothing about at all, but it was all part of Kahlua's charm. She'd gotten pretty good at filling the time it took to go places with stories of this and that, just light conversation about nothing important at all, owing to how many newcomers she had 'saved' from the Threshold. But at least she was happy just to hear her own voice. If Mauja didn't have much to add, she wouldn't be offended. She never was.

So soon enough the pair, if Mauja had not fully regretted his decision to follow the woman-child and left to go somewhere less.... noisy, came to the woods that led up to the Edge. They were still far back from the wall, Kahlua could not even see the glittering of the thing on the horizon yet, but she knew it was there and she was as eager as ever to see it, to show off her handiwork, to say to the spotted unicorn (whom she was growing less concerned about with every passing moment) 'Look what I did!' Since he had first said it, she hadn't thought once about the rest of her herd not wanting him there or them blaming her for anything. What was there to be concerned about? “Just a little ways now. You'll love the wall, I just know it!”

OOC| They're still very far back from the wall, they can't even see it, so perhaps give them some time to get closer before thread-crashing, where it would make more sense for the guards to be patrolling, if you plan on coming :)

The scent of the ocean. The girl inhaled deeply. She didn't usually pay attention to it, the smell was so ingrained in her fur now that it was with her wherever she went. But truth be told, she loved it as much as Mauja. Her own personal slice of heaven was on the far side of the Edge, a little opening in a copse of trees where she left her basket when she didn't have it with her. The little scorpion creature that Ulrik had made her was there as well, resting for the day. The space was small, but it had an open side facing the cliffs where the water splashed against the bottom of the rocks and became a symphony of sound. Best of all, it was close to the garden of Resplendence- her best friend. Really, Kahlua was lucky to have such a friend. Res watched over her even when the girl did not watch over herself. But where was Resplendence now?

With time, perhaps the girl would grow on her own, would learn to think before she acted, would learn to ask questions and actually wait for the answers. Maybe she would become a philosopher, sit beneath a tree, listen to the wind, find questions to ask that she knew there was no answer to, and then not be bothered by it at all- just be happy there was a question to find. Perhaps someday she would actually fit on Mirage's counsel, instead of being the outcast child that was thrown into the job for necessity but not for want. And then she would know the secrets of the Edge and the politics that they held. But she did not. Because she was Kahlua.

But fancy dreams don't make reality and the girl bounced like the fool that she was until she was stopped. And a lucky thing it was that the stallion told her to wait three times. It took until the final one to get her completely halted and turning around to face him. But when she did finally stop, when she did finally catch sight of the look on his face, she found something that she didn't understand at all. A look she had no right seeing, much less trying to figure out what it meant. Or perhaps it was nothing at all. Mauja was a stone.

Did you know Torasin? The girl turned the name over in her head several times, chewing on it, mulling over it, letting it settle in her brain. But nowhere in her shallow memory banks could the name be found. And if there were two things the girl was good at it was crafting and remembering names. “I know Paladin,” she offered finally. Torasin, Paladin. The end sounded the same. But even knowing Paladin was a stretch. She had spoken to him once, seen him in passing from time to time. “I'm sure I'd know him if he was still here but... maybe we can find you somebody that does know him. Is he a friend?” Or was Torasin a her? Oh well, too late now. She looked hopeful. She was trying.

OOC| My apologies for the introspective weirdness. I was watching The Shawshank Redemption... :D

Mauja the unchanging masterpiece. His face could have been carved from stone, from the very hooves of the Foothills crafters. Kahlua was not good at reading faces anyways, but there was nothing to find upon his face. At first she had thought nothing of it, just assumed that his way was his way. But now, stopped here beneath the boughs of the trees, looking upon him in this moment of confusion, something pressed into the back of her mind. Was there more here than she was aware of? There always was, of course, but could she... but then it was gone. As soon as she had begun to think it, whatever it was, it disappeared from her brain forever. This was the way in which her brain worked, a shallow pool that overflowed with nothingness. She could afford some lessons from the spotted man. Perhaps some day he would offer her some, if they became friends. It certainly couldn't hurt.

Regardless, he seemed unimpressed by her knowing Paladin based solely upon the fact that he completely ignored her mentioning it. Oh well. She had tried. I barely knew him. Of course, Kahlua didn't question this in the slightest. Hadn't she gone wandering into the arms of a wolf to find a friend as well? Of course, not the wolf that existed in the Basin to the north. Rather, she had visited the Foothills, traipsing along their borders, trying her best to find Atka. He had never shown, but she had made a new friend. Yes, this was totally normal right now.

As the Frostheart began to tell the story of Torasin the Doctor (the only Moon Doctor Kahlua having known was Smoke), she noted that his ears fell back upon his head- the first real sign of emotion that had ever crossed his face in her presence. Her own twitched in response, mostly out of confusion, but they remained erect, taking in what he had to say. I'm the only one who knows what happened to him, he offered, and the simple girl wondered why he simply didn't tell everyone. In fact, she was about to offer it to him as a suggestion but he carried on and so she just listened.

“Oh, no, they're very nice,” she managed to slip in after he mentioned the herd mates wanting to talk to him. About this time, Hellena showed up and Kahlua smiled with a nod of her head. It was only the second time she had been able to meet the mysterious mare and she was terribly excited, until Mauja's final words registered in her head. They think I murdered him, Kahlua.

She was lucky that Hellena was there to pick up the conversation then, because all she could do was stare. Blue eyes were wide with fright, her face the polar opposite of Mauja's. She showed everything she was thinking or feeling. She was no secret keeper. So she did all she could, which was very little, teeth grinding against one another in confusion (not aggression) as she tried to sort out all the things she was feeling. It was very difficult. Impossible, even. Why would they think that? She bobbed her head a few times, still working, smoke almost pouring from her ears from the visible effort she was undergoing. But eventually she found herself, found her tongue, found her heart, and she shook her head.

What was she thinking, trying to condemn this stallion? For comfort, she looked to the skies, blue eyes searching for the white owl. I am hers. Mauja's words echoed in her head. How could he be cruel enough to kill. Had he showed her any unkindness? Not that she could think of. The only fright he had caused her was for her own feelings- about unicorns. He had been a perfect gentleman, a lonely stranger. She took a deep breath and looked back to the spotted king, adding on to what the misty mare had offered. “But if you know what happened why don't you just tell them? If... if you're innocent they would believe you, right?” Her eyes brightened with hope. Her herd was just. They would believe the truth when they heard it. She just knew it.

He spoke. She listened. In this moment, nothing else mattered, because she wanted so badly for him to be innocent, to know that she had done the right thing, that she was reversing some of the damage that had been done on her by too many encounters with evil beings, too many stabs with a unicorn horn (total one), too many nervous days watching the wall and hoping the unicorn walking down the border was friend and not foe. She prayed to the Moon Goddess to let him be innocent, prayed to the Earth god, the Sun god, the Time god. She prayed to Mirage, to Hellena, to Resplendence. Let him be innocent, because she was trying so very hard to do the right thing. And he went on speaking, and she went on listening. But her prayers grew thin, and then stopped altogether.

There was nothing to pray for. She had been praying a losing battle. And it made it worse that half his words were spoke in riddles, in nonsense that she could hardly understand. But there was one thing she understood with crystal clarity. Torasin died because of me.

Now she breathed. Because breathing was step one. Horses breathe. Horses eat, horses sleep, horses drink as well. But now was not the time for those things. Now was the time for inhaling, for exhaling, for feeling the air rush in and out of her lungs. It was time for staying calm, not panicking again. It was time for being an adult, a mare, a grown woman, instead of an eternal child. It was time to grow up. But how could nature, Mauja, Hellena, her herd ask her to grow up so quickly? In an instant, even? This wasn't what she had asked for when she had invited him. But it was what she was getting. And she struggled now with her confusion, because she was trying her very best to be good, to be as nonjudgmental as possible for Kaj, for herself, but every time she tried something bad happened.

Kaj's accusing eyes danced in her mind, boring into her even when she wasn't there, and her eyes began to mist again at the memory. All of Kaj's angry words and accusations, Lace's bitter defense and Evangeline's cryptic an eye for an eye sounded in her head. What did that even mean? It was like she was trapped in a room with all of them shouting in her ears, telling her what to do, but none of them agreed, and how could she do so many different things? And Kaj, the one whom she wanted most to listen to... it was getting so hard. She tried, she had tried so very hard to open her heart to this stallion, and where had it gotten her? She had dragged him, a killer, to the Edge. To the very doorstep of her home. And for that instant she was no better than the rest of the Qian, the ones that judged before they knew, that hated because of what they thought, that called for sentence before the trial. Because the subtlety of definitions, of the difference between kill and murder, was lost on the girl.

All around her, the forest lived on. Trees rustled in the crisp autumn wind, birds chirped, small mammals rustled in the brush. All around her, life went on, but she was a statue, frozen in time. Because her heart was broken. Because she wanted to cry and couldn't even find the tears. Because she wanted to wind back time when Mauja was still a lost soul, a wandering friend with no crimes on his record. Was that only hours ago? It seemed like years to the overo woman. Years and more. She was ancient, older than Hellena, older than the Qian, older than the Edge and the time god himself. She was eternal.

And then her heart resumed beating.

Hellena was there to take the reins, to fill in what conversation the painted girl could not. Was he sorry. It was enough to get her moving again. Her blues eyes reached for his own, water threatening to spill over the bottom rims, not sure what she was supposed to feel. Not sure what she was supposed to do. Perhaps, much to Hellena's chagrin, all she wanted to do was run to Kaj, to find him, to beg him to teach her how to be the woman he wanted her to be, because she didn't know how to keep trying when it seemed like all the odds were against her. But Kaj was not here. Mauja was. She took another breath. She could do this. But in the end, she couldn't. “You're lying,” was all she managed to sputter out, hardly a whisper, a dent in the air around them. But it echoed like dynamite in her head, so great the silence around her seemed to be. Then she found one more word. “Irma.” Perhaps Mauja would understand what she was trying to say, despite the speech seeming like utter nonsense. I am hers.

Hellena called her naïve and then just left? With some words to Mauja too, of course. Kahlua was dumbfounded. And it didn’t really help with any of the confusing stuff that was going on either. She had trusted Hellena, had looked to her as saint and mother, had expected her to always be kind. Wasn’t that her job, after all? Wasn’t she supposed to look over the herd, care for them, give them strength when they had none of their own. In the end, Kahlua just sighed. What was there to say to a mare as ancient as the hills? What did she understand about being young, carefree, youthful anyways? And those tears that kept threatening to fall? They just sat there, daring anyone to provoke the painted beauty any further. How did she always end up like this?

In a fairytale world, where sugar plum fairies drop wishes, puppies prance in fields of rainbows, and the sun rises with a smile each day, Kahlua would fit in. In a world where I am hers meant that Mauja was bonded to his companion in such a way that he was as beautiful inside as she was on the outside there was no sadness. In a world where Torasin died because of me were words that would never be spoken, Kahlua would rule on high as queen. But Helovia was far from that perfect world, and Kahlua was far from being worthy of such a crown. No, he didn’t understand. But she didn’t either. And perhaps that lack of understanding, within the two of them, would be a place for them to start anew.

And with Hellena gone now, perhaps it would be easier for the girl.

What was it that he had said a few moments ago? It was an accident. She breathed deeply, letting the words roll around in her head for a few minutes, agonizingly silent minutes, but minutes never the less. And she practiced taking deep breaths, and she closed her eyes, and she waited. For what? Even she didn’t know. But whatever it was, she found what she was looking for. Eyes opened, still moist but no longer looking like a dam ready to burst at the slightest provocation.

And it was then that she was ready, with a few deep breathes to bring life back to her chilled heart. The innocence of a child returned to her, though she couldn’t help but take a frightened step back from him. She suddenly felt that she wanted to know, no had to know, what had happened. And though her voice still wavered from her close call with tears she was not going to back down. A whisper of determination shone through her heartbroken voice. “How did it happen. Tell me the story.” It was not a question. She need to know this, though she did not know why.

Perhaps what made this all so bad for the poor girl was her propensity to fall so headfirst into everything she did. When she was happy, she was jubilantly happy, exuberantly happy and not afraid to show it. And when the opposite was true? The girl was just as invested in it. But perhaps that was how the girl had to be. For how would she deal with all of her nightmares, with all of the evil that had plagued her, if she did not jump head first into every joyous occasion? Depression was not for the spotted overo, she did not wear it well.

She watched him, her tender mind wondering why she needed to know this. But even as she looked for an answer in the recess of her mind, she knew she would not find one. Nothing in her life had ever prepared her for this situation, nothing in her life had ever prepared her to grow up. Cared for by a heartless queen and her hell-bound king, overshadowed by a throne-destined brother, the painted girl had been left to her own devices. And a child left on their own rarely chooses to grow old when they can stay young. So instead of finding an answer, Kahlua only wondered, for a brief second before he started speaking, what the Frostheart had been like when he was young, and what had made his soul so old.

King of the Edge. She eyed him cautiously. She had never thought of the Edge as anything other than Mirage’s- the Qian’s. Was there more to the history of this ancient forest than a peace-loving herd that wanted nothing more than to live a quiet life? King Mauja. She tossed the words around in her head and shifted, but her ears pointed towards him, eager to know what all had transpired to make this meeting unfold as it had. And though Mauja took the winds as remembrance, Kahlua took them as strength. The forest was with her. She was not alone.

Just a couple days after, the Sun burned the forest down. Kahlua shuddered as Mauja set the stage for his story to come. She knew fire all too well, knew the way it wrecked and ravaged. It had not eaten her, had not taken her in it’s grasps, but she had watched as it had swallowed up the Cathedral and the forest she had called home. She never had known what had happened to the Preacher and her mother, but she never did see them escape. Perhaps they had been too stubborn to leave their stony walls. And her twin? She doubted he had burned, but hadn’t the flames separated them all the same? They had loved one another, in their own way.

No, flames had not been kind to her either.

And his story went on, one of sadness and strife, one of being wrenched from your home. With a glance towards her home, where she knew the wall would be standing, Kahlua sighed. She felt for Mauja and his story, knew the pain of being forcible removed from the only land you had ever loved. If only the unicorns were not so unlikable, it would make this all so much easier for the painted girl.

And then his talk of nightmares- of being haunted by the fire. She turned her head back to the spotted king, eyes misty once again, but this time in confusion. A war waged in her head, one she did not know how to stop, because she knew this story all too well. The story of endless nights were fears trapped you in dreams you did not want to be having, of days where you feared the sunset because night meant sleep and more terrors. Where waking was your only reprieve, but the night seemed endless and you wondered if there would ever be a dawn. Yes, Kahlua knew that story intimately.

He looked at her, and though she was not brave, she held his gaze, because she knew him. She knew his fears, knew his story and knew, somehow within her, that she was not in danger. He was a killer… but not a murderer. Somewhere in the talk of flames and wars, of dragons and scars it had begun to make sense. Something had gotten through to her.

The juxtaposition of searing fire and the ice spoke that rose from the ground was a beautiful crescendo to the story, the culmination of destiny. And as he made the spike rise from the ground, she turned her face once more towards the wall. Had she really formed the top of the glass into spear points? An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. That was what Evangeline had said to her. And it made her sick to her stomach now, just thinking of it. She wanted to run to the glass, to tear the wall down, to shatter it to a million pieces. She had justified it with her own fear, when she had constructed the thing, but now… She wasn’t sure she could justify it any longer. What made her fear so much more important than everyone else’s? What made her desire for a home more valuable than Mauja’s herd that had been ejected?

He died smiling. His words pulled her back from her wall, two tears finally having freed themselves from her eyes and run down her cheeks. And so when she finally looked back to the king, she smiled too, a genuine action she didn’t even have to think about. She stepped towards him, closing the void she had opened between them. But she didn’t stop, kept on walking, until she was beside him. And, if he would let her, she tried to hang her head and neck over his withers. “I forgive you.” And she hung there for some seconds, holding onto the moment as long as she could. This. This was what the world needed. Understanding. She could see it now- Kaj’s points had all made sense. She just hadn’t known it then.

In time, when it finally seemed right, she stepped back. But somewhere in those moments, in those seconds, she had grown a little. She had aged from frightened child to determined woman. She had vowed before to make things right between herself and Torliek. But now she made a new vow to herself, and to Mauja. “When you’re ready, come find me.” She looked to his eyes, trying to catch his gaze, wanting him to know that this was not the game of a child. “I’ll make them understand, I’ll make them see. I won’t let them condemn you.”

It was a lofty goal for the painted girl and even as she said it she wondered how long it would take to achieve, but she never wondered if she could achieve it. She would. She absolutely would. And perhaps Mauja would not believe her. He had seen so many of her ups and downs in the few hours they had known one another that certainly he would think her a useless ally, but she didn’t care. She had said the words and she meant them. She would stand against Mirage. She would stand against Lace. She would stand beside Mauja and fight for his rights, if he would have her. Because she couldn’t live in a world where somebody’s fears made them a criminal.


OOC| Sorry for the wall of text. So many emotions to deal with.

That he would not have allowed her to touch him had not crossed her mind and as she stood there, neck draped across him, feeling the warmth of his body pressing against her own, she felt home. The same sort of home she felt when she was safe within the walls of her home, safe within the walls she had created, safe within those walls that every day she was beginning to think of as a cage rather than as a protection.

Funny, how an ice spike had been the climax of Torasin’s story, and her story now as well. It was beside her still, standing, pointing skyward, threatening her tender flesh with it’s jagged end but she felt no fear. There was no fire here, just the warmth of friendship, of testing the waters, of seeing what there was to found in this new sort of understanding that had hatched between them. It was not much, but perhaps it was the first step. Perhaps this could be the beginning of the end of a Romeo and Juliet story- a story with a happier ending. Two houses divided, brought together not by lovers, but by friends, the feud ended, peace and happiness found between them. Could it ever be, or would the hate that ran between them hold too strong? Kahlua didn’t know, but she hoped.

Thank you, Kahlua. It was enough. He had accepted her, believed in her when many would not have. Was it his way of repaying her for her trust in him, her forgiveness of his fear? Was she even qualified to forgive his fear? Was there anything to forgive at all? There were so many questions, but none that she never asked herself. If they were found in her brain at all, they were mere wisps of feeling, whispers of thoughts that did not solidify.

With his nose extended towards hers, she reached out as well, letting him touch her, exhaling as he did so, softly, a stream of warm air to rush around his muzzle. And when they were done, the moment past, she found her voice again. “My family burned in fire. I ran.” The words were soft, slow, forced from her mouth because to say them was to call herself a coward. And though she was a coward, and would almost always run from danger if it threatened her life, it still hurt to say it out loud, to hear the words in her own ears instead of in her head. I ran. But what could she have done?

Would it help him know why she had changed her mind? Would he know that she feared fire too, that the fires that burned in the Edge were nice but she dare not venture so close to them as Smoke did? Funny, how even through all of this, his face did not change. The capricious overo did not understand, but she was coming to enjoy it as an endearing part of who this mysterious rogue, killer king was.

“What will you do?” she asked after a few more moments, not even sure what she meant herself. What would he do now, in this instant? What would he do when the trial came, or if it came? What would he do afterwards? Would he stay a wanderer of the wilds, keeping his body distant from them to keep his heart distant from them? But perhaps out of all of these meanings, she meant something slightly different. What do you want to do.

“My apologies,” she responded, something hinting of laughter sputtering from her mouth for the shortest of instants. Clearly there was healing for all of them to do- The Edge, Mauja, Mirage, and all the rest- and though Kahlua was probably in the least need of such medicine she felt entitled to it. To small bits of happiness that made her feel alive again, never knowing what terrors would soon befall her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your unfinished business in bringing you here.” But all in all, she wouldn’t have changed the meeting for anything. And somehow, without really knowing, she thought maybe Mauja wouldn’t have either.

What would she Resplendence about all of this? She shuddered to think that the fallen angel would not understand what she had done, what she was trying to do. After all, hadn’t Res been hurt to the core by the attacks from the North, by the sparking girl from the south? She was so introverted, so determined to live in peace, huddled by her garden in the Edge. But, no. Kahlua had to believe she would understand. She would understand that they couldn’t have peace until this was settled, until fear was not a crime. Or at least Kahlua hoped so. That was what best friends were for, right? To believe you, no matter how crazy your goal was?

And of her herd? She was certain there would be more backlash from the rest of them. Especially Lace- the man she had looked up to so strongly upon her arrival here. But now? Now he seemed more like a monster. His hatred fouled his heart, and yet Mirage had asked him to lead them all. He would be her hardest opponent, she was sure… But if this was her calling, she supposed she could take it- accept the disdain that might fill his eyes. Accept… accept being cast from the herd? That made her shudder. She didn’t want to live on her own anymore. But… perhaps she had finally found her morals and her calling in life. Maybe that was more important?

For a moment her eyes had wandered, this way and that, but when they finally settled back on Mauja, another chilly gust of wind playing with her mane and tale, she felt peace. This was right. “Good luck, friend,” she offered with a nod of her head, special emphasis given to the word friend. “I look forward to your return.” Taking a deep breath, she added at the end. “I need to find some of my famly.” I need to talk to them. She didn’t say those words, but they were there in her voice.

Stepping towards her wall then, she looked back to him with a final smile. First steps are the hardest, perhaps, but everything seemed easy now. He would find her, when the time was right.