"I think it depends on whether you're afraid of dying or not" the tall grullo chuckled, amused and quite taken aback by the the very adult logic behind her reply. He took a few steps away from the rand of the cliff, a small gesture of politeness upon seeing how uneasy his stone chucking was making the girl, and continued to walk along the rocky ledge as moonlight shone down upon them.
Was it common for barely weaned fillies to be able to follow along the thought trails adults had paved? Lace wouldn't know, the only children he spent time with had been Mirage's daughters, Israfel and later Tandavi - not that he'd payed them much attention, but at least he had spoken to them and learned their names. He wondered where they were now, how they were faring - Amaris he had seen just recently and Tavi was alright, he knew that.. but the others?

"I think I believe the fall to be worse than the impact" he eventually continued, pushing the concerned thoughts aside for now - worrying about them wouldn't make anyone feel better. "Once you're knocked off the edge the landing becomes inevitable. All that remains is to wait, because whatever you do, however much you flail and struggle you will only ever get closer to the ground. Dying is easy and what lies beyond is a mystery; fear and powerlessness are the only constants." He smiled at the sooty girl to take the edge off the grim words.

"But who knows. For all we know, rocks might not feel pain at all. Maybe they enjoy the fall instead, finally being able to fly. You should ask Father Earth sometime, if you ever come across him." A slight grin split the inky lips at the thought; Lace was quite sure that the Earth God would find it both amusing and interesting to be questioned about the emotional development of stone. No doubt he would answer too.

Swishing the tail at gnats and night flies as he went, the dragon-carrying equine moved away from the precarious drop once the path became littered with rocks and dense shrubs and turned to head back into the forest. The sound of his hooves became muffled as they sank deep into the moist earth and moss, moonlit mists swirling around the black-barred legs; he breathed in deeply, savoring the scent of fern and fungi, bark and leaf and quickly flowing water rushing down unseen creeks.

"How about the trees?" he queried and looked to see if the child had followed him into the nightly woods, eyes glittering like pale gold under half-closed lids. Long legs carried him silent as a ghost over the ground, weaving in and out between the trees with the tail a shimmering beacon for the filly to follow. "Do you think they feel? Or the water, the wind, the shadows beneath the roots? I bet no one told you that the moon is the eye of a lavender mare, beautiful as the night itself with locks drifting in the breeze... She looks over this land, and those who live within its borders. You too, little moth."