"Cannot a lady and a warrior be one in the same?"

What odd fate had brought the girl here, to the place where her father had wreaked such destruction, robbing the earth of life and replacing it with such violent light, a monstrous chasm left in the wake of his fury? I came upon them not by chance, but by an active and rare desire to seek out company. The filly seemed an apt companion, somehow; her innocence a welcome contrast to my own jaded eye, her spirit something I could relish in. I had not seen her since Smoke introduced the princess to the world... I had not seen any children, not for a long time. For a while, I'd thought I might soon see Mirage's brats... but my emotions on that subject are still unclear. At present, it seems not to be something I need worry about for some time further.

The ash shifts beneath my heavy hooves as I step into their view, mildly amused that I'd happened upon Lace as well. He seemed to be everywhere, the webbed stallion. From her perch atop my withers Kali cried a greeting to Lace's little white, too thoroughly gorged on a recent kill to rouse herself enough for a proper visit. Besides, she had been cautious ever since the eerie silence that stood between us had begun, opting to stay close to me and taking every opportunity to preen or coo, to find reassurance of my affection. She'd begun braiding my mane with deft front claws, and now assorted small plaits littered the length of my poll, white dusted with gold and sometimes dotted with small flowers or plants.

My Kali, my artist.

I watched the younger pair play with glittering amusement in my eyes, and a slight, distant pang of envy. I had not run or laughed or teased since Asur's disappearance, not played with no care except to enjoy the companionship of another. Watching Lace dash from Israfel's reach, I shifted against the pull of my own longing to relax and join them, settling by weight back and cocking my right fore instead as I watched, smiling, quiet, guarded.

Just because I wasn't participating physically didn't mean I couldn't goad them on, though. "Perhaps you should show Lace your skills, Israfel," I suggested, a lilt in my tone and a sly glance thrown in the stallion's direction. My head lowers, seeking the filly, a conspiratorial stage whisper and a wink offered with my smile. "So that he knows what a real warrior is. I fear he may be full of hot air."