He set of, and Erthë found herself clinging tight to every dropped name, every swift and sudden change as though loosing track of what Mauja was talking about would be the same as death. Instinctively the girl felt that these were names and places she shouldn't try to ask for again, that she might ask for clarification but never repetition. But how! Committing everything Mauja said to memory would be a massive task, never mind attempting to understand and accept all the twists and turns of politics and happenstance that was made apparent.

On he went, and on, and the filly found herself shrinking in the face of the years upon years of turmoil, of suffering and conflict this man had lived through. How short her own life was in comparison! How much she had yet to learn, yet to see and do and experience before she could stand beside him as something close to an equal! No wonder there was a rift between them as they stood side by side on the cliffs - it was time that separated, and suffering and joy and life...

A gust of wind blew in from the west and brushed against her skin, stirring the mist in its wake and made her shiver from the damp chill. Rarely did the cold bother her, but right now Erthë felt a pang of longing for her father, to stand close to him and feel his warmth wash over her. The darkness she had relished became oppressive; fumbling lips sought out the cold metal of the bracelet around her leg and removed it, so that light could come rushing back in over them and perhaps remove some of the clammy sensations that crawled down her spine. It barely made a difference though. The day was still misty and gray, without shadow or light; maybe it was growing dark for real already, the afternoon creeping closer to evening as they spoke.

Mauja quieted, and the silence that commenced was of the kind that seemed to ring in the ears, louder than any scream. It called for comments, questions, anything at all to show that she had been listening and paying attention - but Erthë had no idea what to say. It was too much to absorb, too many facts and turns and points to inquire about for her to pick just one.

Instead, she found herself dwelling on that time when Glacia had come to the Edge, looking for her father. Recalling the words she had thrown after the fleeing stallion, they suddenly seemed cruel and thoughtless.

"I'm sorry" she heard herself say, and blinked in surprise. Had she meant that? Yes, it appeared she did. "For what I said, back then - with Glacia and all." He couldn't read minds, she reminded herself. Better to be clear, to be precise. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way... to make it sound as if you were weak. You're not, you know? I don't think anyone thinks that..."

Why was she apologizing now? Water under the bridge, was it not, it happened so long ago. Well, long in her perspective at least - to him it might be like yesterday. Maybe it still hurt him, if he took those careless words as they were said, and not the way they had been meant.

No one think's you're weak but you. You're the only one who thinks you're weak... But then again what do we know. What do you know? What does anyone even know, anyway.

"Thank you for telling me all this, Mauja. It's really a lot, isn't it... all that really happened in just six years?"

The girl looked at the unicorn for a moment then shook her head, still not quite able to take it in.

DANCING IN DARKNESS
to the sound of a drum