There is a stranger that approaches. He takes in her appearance with slow care.. Squat and peculiar. For a long moment he studies the strands that hang from her head and he wonders whether they are some form of.. Feelers. The brief image of them shifting about like appendages almost sends a shutter of repulsion down his spine. Briefly his lip curls back but it settles back into a look of cold calm, an icy placidity as he let’s the warrior offer her greetings. Libertad’s tail twitches slightly and he offers a dip of his head to the mare. She is unfamiliar so he can only assume she is a new arrival since his own departure so many months ago.

“I am here to see my mother and sister.” Libertad says. “Nyx and d’Arcy… If they still reside here in my childhood home.” It is then he hears a familiar voice call his name. A torrent of emotions wash over him and he can’t pin down how to react at her presence. There is a certain disappointment that it isn’t d’Arcy, that he won’t press his warm body into hers and feel the familiar warmth of his wombmate. There is a void formed deep within his chest in her absence and he knows only she can fill it. Still, he must settle with his mother and her presence.

“Hello Mother,” he says. Despite all the hatred he brewed in his belly toward her, he cannot silence the part of him that loves his mother. No matter the fact she had left him and his sister with barely a goodbye, he loves her. There had been times he swore he’d never return to the Edge.. That Helovia has been left behind and he’d kept his back turned.. Yet here he is, crawling back like a dog to it’s vomit and he doesn’t offer biting words to his mother. Rather he lets her press her nose into him and he shuts his eyes for the briefest of moments.

“I was wandering.” Libertad murmurs, “Trying to find myself.. Where is d’Arcy?” His mind cannot help but drift towards his sister. Is there the same burning resentment that he feels towards his mother? Or will she open to him again and bring him into her warm embrace? He is desperate for her and he can feel his need reawakening deep inside. Helovia is hardly home without his sister.

Libertad sees the exchange between the two warriors. He only watches the stocky mare briefly and then turns his gaze back towards his mother. There is little time to waste on idle conversation and he seeks only answers. It is not long before the short haired one begins her departure. The rose only glances her way once again and then turns his eyes back to Nyx. There is nothing but cold distance in his pale eyes, the boisterous light of his youth long gone. His leonine tail twitches at his heels and he simply listens to his mother, letting her take in his own answers and he anticipates the revelation of his sister’s location. Then she delivers the news, and his heart plummets. His expression only seems to harden further and what little glimmer of hope he has is crushed, hidden behind walls of stone. The rose has taught himself not to feel and he withdraws into the safety of callousness, for it is so much easier to be cold than to bleed.

Nyx’s next question almost elicits a frown but he keeps his expression stoic. Libertad genuinely ponders his answer and then shakes his head. “No,” he says, “The Edge is not my home without d’Arcy. If I linger here it will just be a reminder of her absence.” He watches his mother and lets his words sink in before he takes a step back, “I came primarily to fulfill familial responsibility and alert you that I am alive and well. I’m sure our paths will cross again Mother,” he gives a dip of his head.

The rose then turns and starts to walk away, leaving the trail of red in his wake.