Perhaps the FrostHeart's disappearance had been a blessing in disguise. She had thought the world was coming to a close as she watched the cold, relentless nothingness wrap him in its clutches, pulling him in and up and down and turning him inside out and leaving nothing but his hoofprints as his mark on the world. For truly, what had he done? He had led the Edge in a failed battle, left his home in defeat, running from those inferior to him when he should have crushed them beneath the weight of his superiority. He had gathered them here, in this cursed wasteland, for the coldest, harshest Frostfall any of them could remember. He had disappeared when everyone - the shadow-mare included, had needed him most. So perhaps it was fitting that he left no trace.

But he had left his legacy in her black heart, and even now, weeks later, she strove to fulfill his wishes as much as she did her own. Still, perhaps it was better that she were the one to lead, to reign. She had ascended to the role easily, as though it were as simple a movement as breathing, and look what they had to show for it. d'Artagnan, Korra, and now Deimos had all brought prisoners to her, had all proven themselves and, through their actions, her leadership. Even better, they had given her the chance to prove herself as their Crux, as their queen. As they straggled back to her, the impure in tow, she had returned control to them. They had worked hard to secure these prisoners, and so long as they were under the control of the exiles, she cared little for their wellbeing.

And so it was with amusement that she observed the scenario before her. She was barely aware of the changes going on inside the skyrat's mind as she shuttered the windows to her darkest secrets. She took the hate-filled curse - she was sure it was a curse, though she could not understand the words - in stride, proffering a simpering, sweet smile to the mare in return. And then there was nothing in her eyes to convey emotion, thoughts, there was simply nothing. A dark thought crossed the jackal's mind: at least this stupid creature had not been swallowed by the same nothingness that pervaded her thoughts now. She turned to Deimos and, tossing her head gently, gave her instructions to him. "Do as you will with her. Should you uncover anything interesting, do let me know. Otherwise, my only request is that she remain alive, if only by a slim margin." And thus, she took her leave.

[W/C | 443]
[OOC | Psyche has left the thread. ^^]

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