The snake's words were well-received; the shadow-mare chose not to unleash her fury on so brutal an opponent, sure that such a battle would be one that was not so easily won. She hadn't always had this skill, this ability to pick her battles; but then, she had never had to answer to a herd for whom she was responsible. She owed it to those who she now served, or who served her, depending on the viewpoint, to return to the Basin relatively unharmed and able to exact revenge for the many wrongs placed on the unicorns. She felt obligated to protect them, be it from stealth or from outright battle (gods know she preferred outright battle!), and so her mind turned to the task of escaping from her figurative bonds. "I hold no quarrel with you, Serpent," she told Bazilisk, more to command herself than to quell his mind. "I am not so foolish as your leaders would have you believe."

No sooner had she sank into the chaos of her own mind than Leander appeared. Gods, he was an awful sight, with those feathered appendages marring his golden pelt, an unseemly blight on an otherwise perfect bodice. Of course, he had no horn, either, but hornless was a lesser crime than pegasus. The hornless were merely scorned; the pegasi were a mutated pest of massive proportions. Given her druthers, she would enslave the hornless and simply kill off the skyrats. But then, given her druthers, she wouldn't be here, now, would she? Amber orbs greeted him with the cold passion of fury, cranium raised to portray her regal status even here amongst enemies. Especially here amongst enemies. It was a haughty, proud look that she carried on her features, one that told him that he would find no cooperation in her.

He began to speak. She neither confirmed nor denied that she had taken the FrostHeart's place; let them wonder if it was simply rumor, if they so pleased. Nor did she respond to a comment on diplomacy. She was not a diplomatic creature by nature, and had learned only the barest of such things out of necessity. Even so, her learnings would be used to rally unicorns only, not to garner favors from filthy vermin. Her gaze flickered briefly to the massive snake as he was addressed, and then returned to the sultan. It gave away no emotion save her bound anger. She was sure of that; she even contemplated remaining in silence, if only to throw him off guard. But her stature would not yield from the arrogance that she had first assumed upon his arrival; no, this, she would show, and continue to show for the remainder of her little visit.

He attempted to bargain with her, the silly featherbrained thing. It was almost cute, if he weren't so damned disgusting to behold. She let a cold laugh spill from her lips, chiming in a most provocative and seductive way, teeming with a malicious mirth that could cause hair to raise, teeth to grind against each other, provoke a flight instinct in many of the lessers. She didn't expect such a reaction from this skyrat - he had become a sultan somehow, after all - but it was the principle which she pursued with the action. "Your words are folly, as you well know," she began. "You no more expect peace with me than I do. I am not a peaceable mare." Another cold laugh. "I have no further use for any of your so-called friends, though they might wonder about the loyalties of the herds that have so failed to rescue them. But rest assured, I will not ally myself and my kin with you, but for now, I do not seek to gather more of you." She was angry, she was furious, and oh, how she longed to rip his feathers out one by one. She didn't have that color yet. What an addition to her collection it would be! But she would not give him the satisfaction of setting her temper on edge. No, she had more control than that.

[W/C | 688]

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