The God’s joke makes me laugh, mostly in recollection of my dam’s outrage, when she’d heard of the then Czar of the Falls having ignited the hoof-painted, leaf invitations that me and the other foals had made for the very first Festival. I hadn’t been there, having gone elsewhere with my bundle of carefully prepared leaves, but I had certainly heard about it.

"Times change," I remark, wondering just what all those changes fully entailed; looking about, seeing members of the Throat among others of the misty Edge, and the wanderers of the empty realms between, all milling together, taking part in one moment, I only now notice the absence of the reproachful glances that had been present in the first festivals I remember. The laughter that sounds out is true, not forced, and the hushed conversations that I’ve happened to pick up on have been about Kaos, not what chaos will ensue with so many hornless trapped in the valley.

Tiamat’s arrival alongside me stirs another broad smile to my lips, my ears perking towards her with cheer, and I wrap my head around to touch her curves in turn, as she does mine. That same, tentative tingling rises through me as it always does when she is near, but I’m unsure still as to what it is. I blame it on being afraid she’ll share my secrets.

Maybe it’s something more. I certainly fill with great pride when she complements my efforts, golden eyes aglow with gladness to have earned her praise.

"Thank you, Tiamat," I smile, cheerfully holding her gaze.

Not surprised when the God carries on into the crowd, but lifting my ears curiously at his muttered, side comment as he departs, I follow his path with my eyes to Wessex, and my brows notch down over my eyes in contemplative concentration, my ears perked up to catch his words.

I don’t intend to make my way closer to hear her expected response; who, after all, says no to a God? But when Erebos approaches, that tell tale sorrow radiating from him, apparent as the stars upon the black sky above, I give a last longing glance to my young family awaiting me at the story-teller’s area, and make my way towards my blade brother, and the new Haruspex. With a silent approach, I settle alongside him, hoping that, as he had done for me in the past, I could assure him with my company alone that not much was changing at all. At least not anything that truly mattered.

"If an avalanche can be called wise, right brother?" I laugh, nudging at Erebos with my near shoulder, before flashing a grin at Wessex, "congratulations, Mutant of the Mirror."