Were she a kinder being, perhaps she would have felt a touch of guilt for her treatment of the stallion who loved her so inconceivably. But she wasn't, and she didn't. She did not, however, become more annoyed. Ophelia explained the group, repeating the words that the shadow-mare herself had only just spoken. Unlike the subtle rebuke of her words, her niece's disdain was obvious, and momentary amusement erupted unwarranted in her mind. Who would have thought that she would have something in common with her brother's child? Perhaps some family resemblances were more than skin deep.

Well, the child had proven herself useful, for sure. Even if the jackal had no intentions of utilizing the Grey's power, she filed the information away for later use. If she had learned one thing for sure, it was that the future was never certain. It was of the FrostHeart that she thought of ruefully and her own rash actions of the past, and the many actions as of yet unplayed. The world was ever-shifting, ever-changing. One must have foresight in order to be ahead of the curve, or else be cursed to fall behind, forever foraging in the dark, desperately questing for light and meaning and the ability to control one's destiny. She had fallen before, sure. But she had clawed her way out, back to the top. Once again she was in a position to control fates, and she did not intend to lose that position.

Her thoughts of Ophelia had turned from hostile to accepting, if not favorable. As long as the fae did not get in the way, she posed no real threat. A though in the back of her mind that the Grey would be available to the other herds as well was pushed away, for later review. She would plan, and she would plot, but the mare had lightened her dark mood, and for that, she decided to smooth Valentine's metaphorical feathers. "Yes, I am no one's master," she said sweetly, a smile on her maw. Of course, it was a blatant lie, but there you are. Some things never change, regardless of mood swings.

"Besides, my dear friend is, of course, more than capable of his own thoughts and speech, as are the rest of the herd residing here." There. She had, of course, established dominance, but it seemed to be a matter of male pride that no female held them on a leash. Amber gaze roved lazily back to Ophelia, and focused intently on her vaguely vacant gaze. No, she was seeing things. The fae continued to talk, never pausing. Still, there was the briefest, lightest of sensations, almost like deja vu, and then it was gone. Odd, she thought suspiciously, but then dismissed it. Clearly, she simply needed more sleep.

"I will surely keep your offer in mind, though I doubt it comes without a price."

[W/C | ---]