How did she always seem to end up alone?

It was her own fault, she knew that. She had a particularly abrasive personality, and she had deceived many, killed many, all for her own gain and for that of her race. She didn't think of her sins as wrong, but simply necessary actions for the betterment of her kin. She knew that other, weaker, beings were squeamish at the thought of the violence with which she had been raised, but she was better than that. She was of a higher order than they. And she would emerge on top. But they had never, and would never, understand. They would remain blissfully unaware of her upbringing, the stain on her heritage that was her father, so maddened by his hatred of the inferior beings of the world that he blindly murdered the shadow-mare's mother. But even she had deserted the young Psyche, running off in fear. Why she had returned, Psyche had never understood, but that it was to her death seemed unfair.

Not that the jackal knew of fairness. By many standards, it was unfair for her to have seduced the FrostHeart, only to leave him at a gallop when she began to develop feelings for him. It was unfair to steal their daughter away and sentence her to a life without a parent, much like the life she had led. It was unfair for her to return and simply be handed her old life back. Well, not all of it - sure, she had returned to power in the Plague, and she had even gained leadership over the exiled Edge herd. But that was only because Mauja had disappeared, much as she herself had. How ironic for her to return, for her to seek him out and ask forgiveness in the best way she knew how (though she'd never admit to it as such), and then for him to leave her.

That was unfair. But then, it could just be her skewed sense of fairness.

A sigh left her maw, amber orbs scanning the horizon. At first, she thought she was seeing things - a flash of red here, then there. But no, she could see now that what she had assumed were tricks of the light were, in fact, other unicorns. Drawing closer, she made out Valentine's unique markings and a slight smile graced her lips. She had met him only recently, and his effect on her was uncanny. She liked him as much as such a fae could like anyone; she certainly preferred him over the FrostHeart at this moment. The thought soured her smile, and her face returned to neutrality. The fae, also marked in red, though less so, was unknown to the shadow-mare, though something about her was oddly familiar. Unable to place it, Psyche whisked the thought from her mind.

A soft neigh was her way of greeting. She was fairly sure that she had not interrupted anything, as the two did not seem to have been talking. She nodded to Valentine, a more personal form of saying hello, and then spoke, her vocals a jangling set of chords in a sickly sweet tone. "Well, hello, darlings." Her smile was a fake one, though a good one. They would likely never notice the unhappy thoughts dancing behind her eyes. "A lovely day for a stroll, isn't it?"

[W/C | 563]