The twins had been excruciatingly exhausting for the Thief. Her first living child had never been quite so rambunctious, willing to run out and explore so quickly and avoiding her with her urgencies to come with. At least this time she had Marembo, the polecat made it his job to make sure that the children wouldn’t get in trouble – at least too much of it. But the polecat knew about the tendencies of the children, the darkness that lied within their hearts. And he tried to tell Rexanna of it, but the gilded mare refused to listen. One day, she might realize what kind of little monsters her and the Elephant King had created. For now, she continued to believe their innocent charade, the beauty in their mirror-like appearances and the strange yet comforting feeling that burst in her chest when they worked and walked as one – two parts of the same machine. In a way, they were.

Today was another one of those days where Rexanna didn’t have her twins or her companion. Off adventuring more than likely, as the children began to grow stronger and wittier. But the Thief dare not leave, in case of their return and if anything had gone wrong. Stepping out of her cave, she trudged past the hot springs with a small sigh trying to figure out the details of the festival, deciding when would be a good time to find Lena and venture out to each herd and explain what was going to be happening on the Tallsun Orangemoon cusp. Yet, as she ventured, her ashen daggers dragged her toward the lake where a vaguely familiar face was standing near. It was comforting for Rexanna to see that her home was beginning to burst with life again. After so long of the ups and downs of faces coming and going, she did her best to try and stay optimistic. Perhaps this time the mountains would continue to breathe life into the cold fortress that she had called her home for nearly two years now.

As she approached Zyanya, a smile broke across her face. Her thoughts dispersing into the back of her mind as her oceanic eyes focused on the pale gilded mare. “Zyanya!” She nickered to the mare, picking herself up to a trot and guiding herself to stand beside her. She reached out gently, aiming to greet her with the Helovian norm, a gentle brush of their noses. Her exotic striped face angled out toward Zyanya aiming to possibly meet half way if the mare so chose to. After, she retracted her head once more and kept the smile on her face. “I hope the Basin has been as you expected.” Her voice was soft and hopeful as she tilted her head, ears cupped to listen.

"Talk."

— got to sleep,

spent the whole night running.