Boring, boring, rank, boring. The filly stifles a yawn - there's so many more interesting things she could be doing right now. But then there's mention of the word queen, and that's something even Oizys' young mind knows is a Good Word. Queen means power. Power is good. She stares around, looking for the mare lucky enough to be given the position, thinking that naturally it should be Mother....but she does not expect Mother to react as she does when the crown goes to another. Well, shit.

Her dam explodes. Even the gargoyle is taken aback, gawking at the silver soldier as she rants and raves about....flowers? This brings a smirk to her face as she remembers her and Kid's conversation about the potential joys of flowers up the asses of their foes. Yet she hadn't thought Nyx capable of such an outburst - the mare is fierce, yes, but contained. She is like the storm; controlled power, savage and devastating but never seeming to run the risk of getting out of hand. A part of her thinks it's not the best idea to say what Nyx is saying, but fuck it, it's entertaining. The gargoyle just wishes she had some popcorn. Ker, on the other hand, thrusts her head beneath her wing with a resigned trill of misery.

And then it all goes to shit.

Oh, Ma, what have you done? How the Edge residents turn upon their General! How loyal of them! Oizys' ears slam backwards and she paws one large hoof against the dead, dry soil - she doesn't agree with what Nyx said (because doesn't the mare know you're meant to just accept things you don't like, and then get your revenge?) but dammit, the silver is her mother, and family loyalty comes first.

She rounds on Elsa, the winged fallen queen, first. "And I'd advise you to take a nice dose of shut the fuck up. If you hadn't been so shit at your job, we wouldn't need another queen." This is a wild shot in the dark; the gargoyle has no idea what kind of queen Elsa is or was, but it's the most hurtful thing she can possibly think of. She likes to hurt. Words are her weapons as much as her hooves, teeth and electric creatures; she is not like her mother, who uses violence as the cure-all for everything. Oizys has just a hint of manipulation behind those cold grey eyes, just the tiniest fleck of the devil. A well-placed insult can be just as damaging as a well-placed kick - perhaps even moreso when coming from the mouth of a child. Aren't kids meant to be innocent? Not Oizys, harpy-scarred demoness, twisted gargoyle, daughter of monsters, daughter of hate.

Another mare speaks, this one with a clown's smile and dual horns. She says healers are just as deadly as warriors with blades, and the filly furrows her brow. "Oh, really? Alright then, how about you stab me with a flower and I'll stab you with a blade, and we'll see who comes off worse?" Speaking of, there's some tasty-looking blades hovering near to Mrs Bullshit, and she wonders if she made them - a shame to give somebody so thick such an important job. Healing as important as fighting - well, really. She nudges Ker to grab one of the knives for her, which the eagle obligingly does; she nurses the weapon in her beak as she lands back on the gargoyle's hindquarters.

Then there's another mare. Really, why is it that women seem to love to turn on their superiors far faster than men? For all their flaws, at least men have some sense in their heads. It strikes Oizys that she's probably not helping, that she's only making things worse with her acid tongue, but she has no fucks to give. Nobody insults her mother. This one....oh, this one tops the lot. She's a walking wound, all bruises and broken bones, and Oizys sends a mental high-five to her assailant. "I dare you to speak to her like that when she's not pregnant." What she wouldn't give to be summon a spark-horse and set this defeated 'warrior' on fire with it. But alas, Oizys herself knows she isn't yet strong enough to survive a fight against an adult, no matter their injury status. Self-preservation prevents her from striking, but she wants to, she wants to.

A spotted stallion speaks, then. Mother has talked of him with great respect; Mauja, a man she considers a friend. His argument is put fairer than that of his female herdmates, more of an observation than a Nyx-bashing, but it makes Oizys' inner feminist roar with disgust. "Are you shitting me? So male warriors can go around squirting children anywhere they want, but a female warrior should keep her tail clamped down until she's so old and wrinkly she probably couldn't get pregnant anyway? Yeah, that sounds fair." She huffs crossly. "And how do you know she wouldn't give the life of her child for the sake of her herd if we were attacked? I don't know about you, but I'd be hiding right behind that fat ass of hers in a fight, she's like a walking shield with that belly." No offense, Ma.

Finally, finally, there is an ally. He is an oddly-coloured man with curved horns, but he speaks sense; more sense than the rest of the herd put together, and that includes Nyx herself. "See, this one? This one has a brain." She looks approvingly at Alune, then glances around at the others with narrowed eyes and a heaving chest. Ooh, the excitement is intense! Unlike Nyx, who has morals, Oizys has none - she cares not for any wounded feelings in her herdmates. Unlike Nyx, the gargoyle does not apologise. And unlike Nyx, she has no ties at all to this place. If these people get on her tits too much...she'll just up and leave.

Nowhere is home unless Enyo is there, anyway.