"You as well, Leander," my voice says, almost automatically in response to the formalities of tongue. It was odd that the crown of Leadership had bent my skull to fit, arranging my personality to fit the demands I thought otherwise impossible by my brash nature. It is in the eyes of this stallion that I see respect reflected out toward me, standing before him as a ruler and not as a soldier. This is a hard lesson to take into the gut, to stomach. As much as I would demand respect, I often preferred to think of myself as an equal to my herdmates, at least on basic levels. Military should have told me sooner this was not possible.

When you are a leader, ultimately, you are left alone. Those who follow you support you, but only from behind. You are the only one standing in front, guiding the whole herd for better or worse into a path. Because of this trait, many look toward you with endless faith and trust, unbeknownst to many just how terrified the leader can be. The weight of the world rests upon your shoulders, and it is the duty of the leader to shield the others from such a crippling weight.

The weight, unfortunately, so unavoidable for me, staring straight back at me in the eyes of this stallion and the gentle words he spoke. Leander, who was not here to promise his service to the Qian, followed my pact toward war. The loyalty was something that could drag tears to my eyes and my breath from my lungs. It was an honesty that was pure yet strong, and admiration fills my heart even as the automatic responses of leadership isolate me further from this fellow soldier I would wish to see myself bonding more closely will. I did not wish for a disconnect between my family and I any longer.

Luck was smiling upon me, though, as Leander requested nothing but my company. A smile with rough edges appears on my gruff features, a rugged expression not fit for that of a lady. Whoever called me as such was frankly mistaken, as my foul tongue and brutish manners ruled me out of any sort of delicacy held by those of my gender. "Of course," I say, along with the grin, even as I fold my wings neatly toward my sides. I would not be needing to fly for a while.

I lend my ear toward the golden stallion, glancing out toward his ivory lined eyes as he spoke, a look of serious doubt tracing his features. Since the loss of Ophelia, it was quite obvious that I had no eyes and ears for the Throat, but Leander was thankfully picking up the slack the mare and her daft sister had left behind. My tail flicks sharply as I think of them, annoyance permeating my brain swiftly, only to be washed out again by a name that irritated me more. Mauja. I had felt sympathy for the hardened, stoic leader who fought so bravely against a combined force. Still, I knew from the start that our paths would cross violently, but perhaps my intuition that he was a sneaky bastard should have pointed the finger at me instead. Regardless, I absorb the rest of Leander's words, looking sightlessly toward the North as he mentions it, seeing nothing but the sea of crimson waves for miles, aside from a faint outline of the great forests that looked miniscule from where I stood.

"I do not believe Mauja will strike for the Throat first, if at all," I say calmly, reassuringly. "If anything, the Foothills being so close to his new seat of power may be the simplest target." Thinking of Paladin, I almost spit in the dust, but I refrain from doing so, keeping my face steady, afraid I would lose my head otherwise. "I do fear for our Qian brethren, for it does sound as if Frostheart's spirit has not been broken yet."
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