It had been hours since the last conversation broke the silence surrounding them. It was heavy without the beast’s voice, even if it may have surmised to his gravelly grunts and snorts. Machiko preferred the tone of her own voice above the thoughts that made passage with them. All she could offer were her complaints though, and knew better than to spoil the day with the stallion’s irritation and sharp quips. The day had drug further on than all the other days before it, even if the sun had risen later or sank sooner than what was expected. Time was endless in a perpetual stall; a conundrum when one did not have the purpose or the defined goals to spur them on. Without the ability to shorten their days of walking, or the dreams for which they no longer grew fond of.
 
With a heavy sigh pressed behind her lips, the young mare’s eyes drifted further up into the sky. Her lonesome friend, her impartial visitor as he began to change into the dark ink, the expanse of space and its historical monuments twinkling with light. The last of the sun’s rays finally dwindled, imparting brief and sloppy kisses, forced along by the domain of emptiness – and the holes punctured by the worlds away. Machiko had wondered once, if the sky was merely an ocean; where other beings looked down, opposite of to bask in the mysterious abyss. Without wings to test such claims, she remained content with her fanciful theories, unhinged by logical circumstances and guided by simple musings.
 
“Huh?” She’d bumped into him, again. She was tired, you could tell in her voice. Abandoning all desire to play the courtly mask. “What is it?” Alarm etched into her voice, her whisper somewhat harsh; could it be them again? Those who pursued them? It may have only been months since their last encounter, but the agents who tracked them were known for their relentless pursuits. Especially if the reward paid double, and the incentives secured their reckless habits.
 

---

 
“Quiet,” his voice rumbled, steadily permeating the air between them. He could sense her tension, though his focus lay elsewhere. The waft of the other bodies, inhabiting the forests beyond them prickled his senses. It was a small, minute wave of air; on the edges of a land none of them knew existed this far out from the kingdom. Scanning the forest, and the sky above them, the giant glanced back with a subtle tilt to his head. “Do you not smell it?” Amusement hinting at the girl’s lack of focus.
 
She frowns, her bottom lip twitches – annoyed most likely, that she missed the que and fumbled for the clue. With a haughty huff from her little throat, she skirts beside him and steps a few strides ahead. Standing at attention. The bronze clad knight reaches out to nudge her rump, nipping the child as he crawled beside. “Keep close.”
 
“I’m right here Björn. If we are trespassing, they’ll kindly remind us and move us on our way.” She was teasing of course, her voice was flat as she lowered her proud head and glanced side ways with a tired smile. But he could see the light glimmer of hope taking hold of her eyes. The want for a place to stay, to resume their travels and wallow in stillness; just for a moment, respite before some lord or another required their dues. Whether it came with the price of blood or not, settled uneasily within Björn. He had one true objective; and he would keep it to its bitter end.
 
The stallion raised his head up, his bright crown – a nuisance, when it came to creeping and crawling away from danger – leading their march into the Threshold. His muscles coiled, while ears flicked and fluttered with the noises of the forest. The wind was playing tricks on him, the shadows taking form, surrounding himself and the precious cargo walking along. One silly mistake, one bad move – and they too would be consumed by the cold, unyielding sting of death. 

Only a few minutes pass before the crunch of winter steps halts Björn. His façade is steely and indifferent when he turns his body to face the stranger. Adorned by shadow, silky black. He takes note of the horns that curl behind the head, and the glowing jewel clasped upon its hard exterior. The pools of his eyes take in the scars that litter the stranger’s body, yet the stallion did not appear gaunt or maimed from recent combat. The copper vagabond stood on guard nonetheless. These were foreign lands, with foreign cultures; the plethora of unknowns took on a multitude of possibilities.

An unfamiliar tone finally breaches between them, despite the familiar words that coalesce ahead. Senses are heightened; his steady eyes churn within as information is given. So far there is no need for his precaution; yet, Björn resists the idea of safety, or the false pretenses of a friendly greeting.

He gives a stiff dip of his head. A deep and strangely fluid voice begins, “We are simply travelers. Looking for refuge… Greetings Mortuus Nox.” By habit he forgets to name himself, while attempting to copy the name with his tongue – failing, here and there –. The trees cast long shadows along the earth, making it hard to read the stallion ahead of him. There isn’t anything he can pick out, besides the stark signs of a possible warrior – or a stallion that fought for other circumstances.

---

Machiko however, finds the cold exterior of the stranger curious. She finds it intreaguing, having witnessed travelers or strangers as they passed paths, to simply ignore or exchange glances in brief connection. Here was one who had offered more than his impenetrable exterior, and immediately wondered why. The young mare shifts impatiently beside Björn, and inches a tad closer to their fellow unicorn.

Mortuus – the name is wonderfully odd and strange. His ruckuous laugh cracks a grin upon her otherwise silent features. Giggling with him – more out of relief. “I’m sorry to hear that. Unless you don’t have a preference for either language?” She tilts her head, her voice much lighter than her companion’s, slightly accented with the rolls and fluidity of her homeland. She dips her head as she gathers herself, her old life crawling back to ‘play the game’, as mother had once put it. Not that her appearances or reputation mattered much here – possibly nothing, mostly likely… “Mortuus it is.”

“You may call me Machiko, and this is my uncle Björn. We have no knowledge of the lands we enter now. It would help us greatly to know more of it, if you could spare the time to dabble with foreigners.” She paused briefly, having taken the risk of omitting their true names. Before Björn could step in, she picked up her train of thought with a bit of energy. “You mentioned lands? And the Aurora Basin, that is one of them… how many are there? And suppose you could give an account of what these lands are like. Are you at war?”

She’d realized the subtle marks along his hide. But there was much she needed to know, and knowledge was priceless wasn’t it? He’d said he’d help, anyhow… An ear shifts to Björn as a rumble escapes him. The mare can feel his gaze radiate out with an air of ire. “Excuse my niece. It has been some time since our last encounter.”

The sound of his tail swishes behind them. His large, heavy feet shift – glancing behind Mortuus for only a few seconds. He is aware of the environment, taking note of all sides for the sake of being vigilant.