The northern forest was not a place Lakota liked to be. Despite the Grey being used for business, she had her own thoughts about certain herds. Thoughts she would, of course, keep to herself. Lakota was smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut, though she hated to do it most of the time. Her mouth was always out of control, and she didn't care in the slightest. If you didn't like the brutality of her honest thoughts then you could scram from her presence, that's how she saw it. Being so close to any herdland sent pinpricks up her spine. Reminding her of far too many things that best remained buried. Foolish leaders that had gotten themselves killed for one word- peace. They refused to fight for it, instead trying to accept everybody with love and warm greetings. But there were always dark ones born from the light and they had been taken over days after Lakota was exiled for her words.

A harsh snort escaped her. Peace. If you wanted it, you fought for it. Bled for it. Killed for it. It was nearly impossible to achieve, but if you wanted it then she saw no other way. And if you refused to fight for it you might as well end your own life, for you surely had no honor within you. If you had no purpose, nothing to fight for, what did you have? Then again Lakota was a warrior, this was the code she lived by.

Violet eyes pierced the darkness of pre dawn. Surveying the edges of their forest where it connected to the Foothills. She was no scout, and this wasn't officially their territory, but Lakota held a fierce desire to protect it. Even if some of the healers were rather simple minded in their ways. There were no real borders, but those who sought the Grey often appeared on them as if fearing the darkness of their home. Wry smile pulled at ebony lips. Silly little foals, they were. So they were mercenaries. Whoop dee doo. Bored, she kicked out her foreleg. Leaving a long, deep scar in the soft moss and dirt of the forest floor. Dead, wet leaves spraying up around her chest as she whipped her tail fiercely. Boredom didn't settle well with the foul mouthed princess. Where was some fun when you needed it? A nice little chewtoy for her to mess with?

Pillars do not take lean form too far north, knowing of the herd that lay beyond the reaches of the Grey’s influence. The Foothills. Lakota would not tread on their lands without proper incentive, for why would she wish to? She smelt strangely, collecting the smell of the Grey that was not quite the scent of an Outcast. It was far too dangerous to impose on herd borders alone, though Lakota cared little for these things. As a mercenary she cared only for alliances, for fighting, for building up a strong and well-rounded group that was knit closer than family. For she was no fool, and despite being rather sociopathic and violent, valued the bonds she held with various members of the Grey and her own family. You needed to know your brethren almost intimately, for your life could be on their shoulders in battle and they could compliment your weaknesses. Lakota did not like it, but she knew that someday she would need the other members. Until that day however, she would roam on her own and take on duties that were not necessarily hers. Which is why Lakota stalked through uncharted territory on her own, trusting in her own abilities to protect herself without the help of others. Being around people made her skin itch uncomfortably at times, and it only left when she had some time to herself where her mind could relax.

Cold stare caught movement quickly as two forms, seemingly melded into one sole body, split apart into separate elements that came at her on different sides. Dark smirk twisted her lips in an unfavorable way, greeting them with what seemed more of a snarl than a smile. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Sinful chuckles and mischievous, ill-meaning looks did not scare her. Merely make her insatiably curious. Did they truly hail from a land such as the Foothills? Only once they had advanced enough did lips part to allow speech that was smooth as silk and as dark as the shadows of night. ”Hello there, darlings. Beautiful day, hm?” Forcing herself not to add a challenge in her words. She may love a good fight, but it was useless to start one when these two, clearly twins of some sort and inclined towards darkness to boot, could be allies of a sort. Interest flickered in her eyes, showing she would hold back for the time being. Lakota was curious, though her posture spoke that she was not fully relaxed. She would allow them to come closer, for they intrigued her. But if they dared to mess with her, she would not be patient for long. Which would really be a shame, because they seemed quite like her despite being from the Foothills. Takes one to know one, she supposed.

[[Sooo late. You can throw tomatoes at me.]]

Guard is not fully protective around her, for she is curious and they are intriguing. They move like magnets, like polar ends- one shifts and the other follows, always in tune. They watch her, and she watches them in return. They are playing a game before they have even opened their maws to speak a word, pawns moving and clacking across the board that lays unseen at their feet. It pulses around them, each standing in their own little square, dancing around each other through tricky moves, protecting their respective kings. But is this king literal or otherwise? They all have secrets of course, but Lakota is undaunted. Their laughter is actually rather annoying, and she arches a dark brow at them, already bored of them. What a shame, they had seemed so interesting earlier. Now they are losing ground quickly and her face is turning to boredom, unimpressed.

They talk together, and Lakota watches them interact, perfect parallels. They are playful, cats with twitching tails that have unsheathed their claws but do not lose them. Tricksters, she realizes. They are devious, cunning. Able to create chaos, and she sees it in their eyes. It makes her blood rush, and she knows what drives them, for at one point in her life it drove her too. One of them glances at her, gaze cutting, and she flickered her ears back almost as if she is flattening them, but they bounce back playfully, enticing him. Her own violet irises are glittering with excitement, uncaring that he is watching her in that way. Lakota is playing their game willingly, ready to dance with them, and her claws are prepared just as theirs are. They circle like vultures before somehow coming together again. So close, they are in danger of every strike she could possibly imagine, but she does not initiate one. Instead she lays calm and even relaxed beneath their close circling, watching them. Always watching, but she is smiling. Perhaps they are not as boring as she had assumed. She cares not how or why they come together, but her own smooth chuckle is slipping from her vocals. Crown shook slowly as it bubbled free, amused by their actions. Their eyes are cold, those of a hawk, and she lets her laughter turn into something more sinister. Her own orbs are glaciers now, and she is unaffected. Lakota may be playing the part of the mouse in their paws, but she is far from it.

”What are you?

Oh she hears it, the judgment in their tones, but she is not going to let them have her so easily. It’s more amusing to watch them circle her, to be impenetrable beneath their gazes. Lakota loves her anonymity, and she’s willing to make them work, or at least summon more of that devious laughter that both irritates and entices her. ”A mare of course, what do you think I am?” She is baiting them, teasing. Even if her face is vapid, she is laughing darkly on the inside. Oh yes, she likes these two. They are more than enough to amuse her on that day.

It is a shame that they do not play along with her game, for she is playing along with theirs. Then again she never expected them to be fair the moment she caught the glow of their eyes from the scenery around her. They change to yet another expression and she let out an exasperated sigh that she made no move to hide from them, cocking her hip out and regarding them with an expression of distaste and boredom for the hundredth time. Except this time they are more aggravating, and she is growing rather tired of this game. Lakota had hoped they would entertain her for more than a few moments, but it seems they are too wrapped up in themselves to even care. What a shame, they had such potential, but it seemed to her that the only way to actually get this to move along was to go along with their petty ways.

She can see they are about to leave and she rolls her lavender orbs, uncaring if they left but knowing it would shove her right back into boredom. That is not something she desires. At last she scoffs and steps forward, irritated and letting her hooves be covered with fog that does not belong in this forest. She stops herself and it fades, for her magic is still far from being in complete control. It rises to her emotions, but someday she will have it perfected. ”What a shame, I had hoped you would be more entertaining than that. Males these days,” she scoffed, watching them turn and listening to them speak in perfectly matched syllables. ”Alright alright, I will play your little game. How annoying that I have to go out of my way to keep you little boys around just to entertain myself. What a dull world.” Tone is aloof, cutting in its honesty and the little insults she hides within her sentences.

One long black leg extended to draw her forth towards them, deep purple irises locked onto their forms like a predator honing in on its prey. ”What am I? What a funny question for you to ask. I am a lot of things. I am first and foremost a mare, clearly. I am an ex-princess, a killer, a convict, and a sister. Clearly a daughter as well, but that must be clear to you. I am a poisoner both with knowledge and magic. I am a mercenary, a warrior. A deviant, a shadow. But what does it matter what I am?” She dances closer, a panther stalking towards them. So she has answered their riddle, who cares? Sighing she turned as well and no longer is she facing them, turning back towards her home quite happily. ”I do not need your acceptance to heal my poor baby heart, surely you know that. Oh, I will simply die if we do not become friends!” She’s pulling the theatrics, but behind her tone she is mocking them, a hissing serpent that is not pleased at all by their aggravating ways.