Tandavi

I'll light a fire in your new shoes.

She follows with far more trepidation than her bloodstained friend, dark gaze flickering anxiously at every shadow on the snow. Her brother huddles unhappily in a makeshift nest of hair, a built up cavern of tangles and braids which offers scant protection from the miserable cold. Neither copper girl nor ebony fox are anything approaching pleased with their surroundings; but fire child soldiers on, stepping in Sacre's cloven hoofprints, fighting back the urge to huddle against the boy, take refuge in the warmth and safety he suggests. She wishes she could simply vanish into the snow, find solace in the icy expanse and disappear from their caravan of merchants, melt away and flow back to the Throat in a puddle of copper goo. It has been such a weary journey already; miles stretch behind them, miles she would happily retrace if only they would provide a noble escape from the task ahead.

It does not help that her entire soul is shaking with the pressure of being a lead. Nobody knows yet, not even Sacre- she feels guilty for keeping it from him, but tells herself it isn't even confirmed. For all she knows, Gaucho will revoke his offer the moment he realizes she has gone to the Basin, left behind responsibility to travel to the north. He wanted me to do things, she tells herself stubbornly. And I need to face my nightmares, if I want to be a knight.

As the entrance to the Basin rises into sight, the girl pauses to swallow her fear, black eyes tracing ice and stone. She forces herself to look away, pushes her eyes onto Sacre's back, the way his spine rises into his mane, the two colored ears which rise so eagerly from his crown. She watches his movements and moves in his steps, encouraged by the strength of her obsidian friend. The Unicorns of the Basin are a fearful myth, a wretched enemy which haunts her childhood, taunt her dreams. They are shadowy figures of a miserable war, half of the reason for the idiotic invasions which have plagued her since childhood, haunted her blood. Now, as walks into the entrance of their home, well... fire child focuses hard on her friend, reminding herself that if Sacre came from the Basin, it cannot be so bad a place.

She almost walks into him, so abrupt his his halt. Copper breast grazes his ebony hip- "Sorry!" she blurts, heat rising to her face, heart racing heavy as she blinks back surprise. At least you're warm now, comes Natraj's wry remark from his haven in her hair; she glowers at him mentally and lays back her ears, praying for the sun to subdue her poor nerves.

Beasts of metal tower over the entrance, sentinels who peer down on their small collection through unseeing eyes. Fire child finds them unsettling, strange, and shifts uneasily from the line of their gaze. Sacre calls his father, and the girl realizes she has no idea who the mystery figure is. Is he kind? Is he tall? What is it like, having a father? The girl does not know. Does Sacre have many siblings here, too? She knows, of course, of his mother's demise. Has the rest of his family remained behind these walls? Guilt washes over the girl again. Her best friend in the world, and she knows so little about him.

What sort of leader will she be, when she does not even know her best friend's father?