Help my little brother, he said. Nyx was a benevolent soul, and helping a poor defenceless ice-trapped colt was precisely the sort of thing she would do - it was a pity that every single sign was yelling trap! at her. She was walking through a spooky-ass forest, following a spooky-ass unicorn, with spooky-ass chills going down her spine - she was entitled to feel uneasy. On her back, Dominus growled, a steady, rumbling sound; she could feel his infantile displeasure at the situation, and his long tail was lashing against her shoulders as he sat curled between the blades. He was a couple of weeks old now and still small enough to nestle in the place he had chosen when he was a hatchling, with black strands of Nyx's mane covering him like a blanket. His intelligent blue eyes poked out from beneath, narrowed and wary as he bobbed with the movement of her body.

But, as they moved through the thicket, the fact it was a trap became more and more apparent. When the stallion spoke, Nyx really wasn't surprised - she just released a groan at her own naiivety, and the fact she was so damn gullible. "That's just peachy," she murmured, tail slapping her flanks as she narrowed her eyes at the blind stallion. Dominus' growls increased in volume until he was like a piece of garden equipment snarling away between her shoulders, and she had to prod him with her mind to get him to shut up and stop distracting her - he clambered up her neck, sharp claws digging into her flesh, and sat between her ears to glower disdainfully down at Morir. As he spoke of his sister, the silver soldier's skull snapped around to focus on the ominous-looking black mare, with such force the lion cub had to grapple Nyx's ears to keep his balance. She was surrounded, with no means of escape. Wonderful.

The silver mare levelled her frigid gaze between the two of them, glancing between them. Her unease levels continued to rise, and she was painfully aware of her young companion nestled on her head - she was like a mother bear over him, fiercely protective and adoring. She had gone from loathing the idea of a mental bond to adoring it, and the fluffy white cub that had befriended her - the idea of him getting hurt was agony to her. "Go", she tried to tell him - he couldn't answer, but seemed to understand her words. He send her a sharp mental rebuke, letting her know that he was not going to abandon her. With a disgusted grunt, the woman looked back to her captors. "So...have you just stolen me for my delightful company, or do you have far more gruesomely painful intentions in mind?" She quirked a brow, outwardly fearless and almost indifferent, but inwardly feeling her heart flutter like a dying bird.