The white stallion spoke with a voice as chilly as a winter wind. Lace turned the head to look at him with a brow slightly raised, rather surprised to find himself insulted by someone he had never even spoken to before. The dragon hissed furiously at his words, but Lace didn't take the bait or whatever it had been; instead he gave Mauja a mild smile and nodded, heaving a mournful sigh that was just a little too deep to be entirely serious. "Oh, I know. It's a terrible ordeal... it's my sole comfort that at least I'm prettier than you." He gave the neck a jerk that made the white mane fly through the air before falling back in puffy locks by the neck, fluttered the eyelashes furiously at the unicorn; then turned his back on him with a poorly hidden snort of amusement. A calming thought to the white dragoness made her back down a bit, and after giving the spotted stag a last warning glare she took to watching the owls as they flitted back and forth in the air above, a decidedly hungry gleam in her eyes and something tetchy about the curling tail.
It seemed his words had been misunderstood; rather than the philosophical musings he had intended the elderly stallion appeared to have taken it rather literally, if the glance he'd been given was anything to go by. Sadly it was too late to remedy it now, the grullo chose to let it be and chose to listen instead as Paladin spoke. He smiled when the other laughed, though couldn't seem to relate enough for it to be genuine or entirely honest. Perhaps it was simply the differences between them that did it - there were as many of them as there were stars in the sky, and while the Valiant carried most of his scars on the outside, Lace had swallowed his and wore them within his heart. He wouldn't expect anyone else to understand why he felt old and worn; nor would he ever claim to stand on equal ground with someone who had lived so honestly, so intensely as Paladin, or even Mauja. In many ways the Silverthorn remained very young, just like his physique.
It showed through when the war-marked elder spoke to the Frostheart, declaring some kind of sympathy or understanding for the Basin ways. At least that was how Lace interpreted it, and it made a deep frown appear that creased the soft skin around the eyes, whose gaze suddenly seemed to harden. He struggled with himself for a while, turned the statement over in his mind and tried to understand it, tried to accept this sudden admission from someone he had always taken for an avid defender of everyones equal value. Eventually he couldn't contain himself anymore, he gritted the teeth and shot a grim look at Mauja before locking his gaze at the black stallion.
"I agree that there is nothing wrong with sticking to your own kind" he grunted, "and I won't go telling anyone how to rule their own herd. But for no one to be equal? That's tantamount to condoning the slaughter of others simply for being different and I can't stand for that. Every life is born with the same right to existence and that is where we are equal, Paladin; whether blind or deaf, tall or short, winged, horned, young or old."
It had never been about forcing others to mingle with everyone, at least not for Lace. What he had spent most of his adult life fighting against was the blind belief that being born with one specific trait made you worth more than someone else, that having horns or wings or strong legs made you automatically superior to others. It troubled him to hear this defeatist sort of statement from Paladin; he didn't like it and he didn't trust it, and the quick glance he threw to Aaron was as full of disbelief as it was of worry and doubt. Was the strong, glorious, valiant leader loosing his marbles? Had he gone senile somewhere along the line, leaving him to utter nonsense like they were the gathered wisdoms of a life well lived?
The ears of the gold-marked stallion tipped gradually backwards, a clear sign of his unwillingness to accept the words of the stallion he used to call friend and ally.
@[Mauja], @[Aaron]
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