She has discovered that weakness in inherent. It is a conclusion that she has come to most unwillingly, as it requires her to admit weakness in herself. And she is not weak, has never been weak. But she had a weakness, just as everyone else did; perhaps hers was only one, as opposed to the multitudes of the lesser beings, but it was a weakness all the same. And though she might refuse to admit it, she knew that should her weakness be exploited, she would crack.

Everyone cracked sooner or later.

She had watched them, forced them, really, to crack under the pressure of her interrogation, her infliction of their wildest nightmares. Her malicious eyes and haughty demeanor was fit for a queen, and few stood in the way of such royalty. Even the impure paid homage to her regal stature, once. Or they had tried to, before she cut them down like so many blades of grass, crushed under relentless hooves, cold detachment, icy fury. How dare they imagine themselves as high as she and her kin? How dare they fantasize that their place in the world was simply theirs. No, they belonged to her, and she would make sure they knew it.

They would not know her weakness.

She reveled in the recent successes of the organization, cruel smile playing over seductive features. The effect was haunting, both enticing and repellent at once. She was not beautiful, but she had an air that drew others to her all the same. Call it a natural leadership, if you will. Regardless, she had been brought an undecorated mare and a skyrat from the Qian's folds - she refused to think of them as the Edge herd - and in this she found relief from her thoughts. This was her saving grace, her distraction, her life - or so it was quickly becoming. It was easier to fall into old habits than to build new ones, be them with the FrostHeart or their little princess. Relationships had never been her strong point.

She was even more pleased upon noting the appearance of Deimos, and in tow another inferior for her entertainment. Her features became almost gleeful, though still menacing, a look that was altogether insane and calculating and all sorts of horror for the unfortunate prisoner. Her steps were quick as she danced across the terrain, slinking, almost feline in nature. She arrived to hear the stupid femme's words, and deigned to nod her greeting to Deimos rather than announce her appearance. She rather hoped to startle the fae, though she doubted it would be so easy as that. "Darling," she cackled, "I don't know what rumors have stuck in that featherbrained little head of yours, but there is no such thing as 'nice and cozy' here. Particularly not in the present company."

Everyone cracked; so would she.

[W/C | 478]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.