Could Giselle really be blamed for how much resentment she felt towards Paladin and the fallen Empress? Or even how much perverse joy it brought her to know that they had fallen short of daddys expectations. She, so far at least, was the only one who had yet to disappoint. But the again, she had yet to realise that the main reason for this, was that she had yet to place herself in the firing line. Sure, she had fought in battles, wars even. But that wasn’t the same as stepping forward and taking responsibility as Pysche had done so well for so long. She was naive and held such grandiose visions of herself. But again, one could not blame her for this. It was only a defence mechanism after all, for deep, oh so very deep down, she was still the impressionable filly that her father had broken into two. One day, probably not for a long time, she would come to realise this, and her world would crumble around her.

But for now, she felt that she was the one who could finally do daddy proud, so that his ghost would stop lingering behind her like a bad smell. If she could just show him that she was the one who he should have put his faith in, then she could finally let go. Perhaps. She was fragile behind that oh tough exterior, not that she would let anyone know it. Tolerance was never shown to her growing up, so of course intolerance was a massive part of her makeup. She had loved her sister dearly, but by falling from grace, she had let Giselle down. Intolerance was all she could show her, rather than forgiveness, for she barely understood the word, let alone act upon it. All she had been shown by her family was that failure wasn’t an option, so why had it been for her sister? She should have fought longer, tried harder. Its what daddy would have done.

Giselle watched the golden one before her closely, trying to figure out how she really felt about the return of a lost one, one so closely related to their old lives. Did she still hold the Empress in high regard, or was she dead to her as she was to Giselle? And if she still loved, could she be trusted? She had not expected to run into such emotions so soon into her mission. She needed to remain impartial, for feelings just got in the way. She watched as the glimmering ones eyes shimmered with tears. But what for? Was it the loss of the war, or the loss of her dear friends dignity and blade? Giselle prayed for the former, as she could understand the sorrow of war, but as for the sorrow for the fallen, she couldn’t grasp that. They only had themselves to blame after all.

She listened as the other spoke of the second side to the tale of woe that had been her sisters demise from grace. Giselle nodded sagely, but she was not particularly interested in the excuses and explanations that she felt sure were to follow. Perhaps one day she would be prepared to listen, but for now, not so much. Illynxs' perfect mask barely slipped, though Giselle could tell it was taking all her strength for it not to crack. She wondered how many times the broken pieces had had to be glued back together, for she knew that she could barely see hers for all the hairline cracks that covered it, it was only a matter of time before it shattered into a million irreparable pieces. “I am sure my sister holds a side of the story that I am yet to hear, as I am sure you do too, perhaps another time however..?” She choked a little as she spoke. “I can imagine it is a tale of many different sides that probably all deserve a fair hearing, and that along with forgiveness for my sister is not something I am ready for.” Empathy was an alien emotion for her, and her bloodlust rose because of it, to shake the uneasy feeling and to replace with something known. Lords knows that bloodspill was something that she knew a little about, she had been brought up with it.

Giselle followed suit as Illynx started to walk in the direction of the herdlands, rump swaying, banner swishing and pelt slowly returning to normal, the crimson fading. Anger had a place, and now was not the time for it. She would get more from Illynx if she let her guard down a little. Her rage would be sated soon enough, with others help or not. Perhaps now was the time to relax in an old friends company before she threw herself head-first into her fathers war, that she barely knew anything about. “Perhaps it was fate that we were meant to meet again, our destinies are set to entwine yet again. Tell me friend, what do you and your kind have planned for the future?” She was feeling impatient, she wanted to get going, before she lost herself, or perhaps even worse, found herself.