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Recent events have taken their toll on the silver soldier. Spring usually heralds the start of happiness, new life and a new beginning after the long dark months of Frostfall. Spring is usually Nyx's favourite time of year, when she delivers a foal and spends a few blissful months with it by her side, relying on her for everything and bringing her untold happiness. This year, her sides are not swollen with the fruits of last year's labours. Her womb is empty and barren, and her nest holds no chicks inside it. Arakh and Esinakh have left for greener pastures in the Throat, and although she sees them regularly it is not the same as having them fully reliant on her.
She's lonely, empty, starved of affection. With Arakh and Esinakh gone, Enyo and d'Arcy missing and Libertad choosing to live away from her, it only leaves Oizys in the Edge - a girl that she must pretend isn't even her blood-daughter, a girl who shows her no affection and never has. As a result of this depression brought on by the absence of her offspring, Nyx is thinner than usual and holds a haggard, haunted expression. Her features are gaunt, her eyes cold and empty, her days long and filled with nothingness. There's a pointlessness to life now, an absence of any true purpose. She is not General, she is not Mother, and she can scarcely be bothered to go to the Threshold or socialise. In short, Nyx is not living - she is existing. A herd meeting draws her out of her stupor, even though she's deeply reluctant attend it. That means showing the herd the poor condition of her coat, the ribs that threaten to show beneath the lank grey fur, the cold dead expression on her face. Still, she attends. Dominus is close by, his touch the only one she's had in so long, his company all she relies on now. Her mood has taken its toll on him, too - he's thinner as well, his magnificent mane seeming smaller and less full than usual. He tries his best to cheer her up, but it's like trying to convince a thunderstorm to leave the skies sunny. The mare skulks near the back, listening as the ranks are announced - her old position is given to Roskuld, who she is sure will do better with it than she did. She stands in silence, nodding when her name is mentioned but otherwise simply resembling a statue, a paragon of sorrow and misery. |
Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.
