The sun was setting, spreading fire and blood across the sky. Navy ink crept closer to the west, stars peeking out like diamonds hidden in velvet folds. Slowly their reign advanced, chasing the sun and his fiery splendor away, into the abyss. Mauja stood poised at the meadow's northern edge, with the safety of the trees at his back, guarding him; he felt safer next to them, safer so close to the Edge, though he refused to think of that place, that time, now. Orange slowly faded to purple at the edges, until the only signs of the sun was a horizon of red, and a few clouds against the dark backdrop still blazed with light from beneath. The sounds of the day faded into silence, and cold, a lapse towards winter before the full warmth of summer set in. There would be no frost, but dew and fog. Slowly he lowered his head to nip at the lush spring grass, pulling a few blades from the moist earth and chewing them in thoughtful silence. A carpet of purple thistle spread out before him, muted to gray in the light of the moon.

How could things have changed so drastically, in such a short while? How could he have changed? Once an ice monarch, strong for his kin even when defeated, and now he felt like nothing but a shadow in this world, to be winked out like a candleflame at the merest puff of breath. His ears fell back against his neck, and for anyone that had known him, it was a startling display of emotion as pain drew his 'brows together. He did not want to be this weak creature, who fought to not flinch at shadows and sounds, who fought to stay asleep, who fought to remain smooth and calm around others. He wanted, desperately, to run away and heal in the solitude of the snow, but he couldn't. Couldn't. Duty kept him bound to the Basin, bade him to stay and he could not refuse. Not for his people. As long as he could pretend he was strong and make them believe it he would stay, even if it felt as if his heart was shattering in his chest. His pale eyes slid shut, and he sighed into the gathering mist. All he did, he did for them. All he had ever done, he had done for them.

Would it be the death of him?

No, he thought, and gave his head a shake, before setting out across the Meadow under the rising silver moon. She painted everything cold and blue, silver, and drained the color from every thing, and lent an ethereal shimmer to the curves of his body. White, it always glowed in the night. It made him an easy target, but he feared few predators in the sea of lavender. Only a few hundred paces in did he stop again, turning his head to stare at the dark forests looming at his back. The fog was thickening, drifting gently in the faint breeze, and somewhere his owl barked.

For Delinne.
And before someone says, "owl? bark? wtf?", snowy owls have a distinct sound which does not sound like your regular hoot, and is most often described as "a bark".

night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com

The Meadow. She had been there a lot of times now, pacing back and forth. The mare couldn't settle. But why?
She had met the stallions; Valentine, Azzaron, Knox and even someone called Zamoro. But she couldn't keep her mind from one special.
The mare looked up at the moon that was slowly rising up to take it's place on the darkening sky. Valentine had told her that Mauja was gone.
He had disappeared.

Delinne couldn't understand how it could've happen. He had been injured, healed and then he had just disappeared. How?
She missed her King, the herd too. She missed the icy stallion who had given her a home to be proud of.
Only to be taken away from her. She sighed and looked at the horizon. The sun was almost gone, giving the sky a red and orange color. It was beautiful, sure, but it just reminded her that the days went by quicker. Her days flew by just like birds who came back to the forests.

She stood by the river, near the northern part of the Meadow. On her one side, she had the Treshold, and on the other side was the Edge.
It ached when she thought of the Edge, so she decided to do so no more.
The mare thought about her King. Where was he, if he had disappeared? Valentine hadn't mentioned much about him. What if she would never meet Mauja again?

What if... The thought stopped as the mare did and she stared at one spot of the meadow. A white unicorn. With a light blue horn - or, it looked like it. The moon didn't exactly help with the colors and hues.
But could it be?
Delinne turned her black body and trotted towards the stallion with long, careful steps. It couldn't be him. He was gone.
Right?
She slowed down as she got closer and lowered her head with wide-open eyes. Mauja.

"M-my King... Is it really you? I thought you were gone," the mare whispered, trying not to stare too much.
He was just as elegant as he had been before the invasion. White fur with black spots everywhere, icy horn and those black feathers he wore as decoration in his mane and tail.
It was him. Either that or it was an illusion.

"Talking."

ooc: Naww x)
word count: 387

He had thought that he was alone, alone with the thistles of lavender bowing to the gentle breeze. He had thought that no one was near, that it was only him and the open sky. But what did it matter what he had thought, when he was wrong? Perhaps he had been alone before the mist thickened to fog, but he wasn't anymore. A dark shape materialized in the veils of gray and silver, and he nearly flinched at her sudden appearance; a twitch ran across his hide, through his muscles, as he prepared for flight but never acted upon it. Something in his memory told him he knew the dark shape approaching, that he knew the strength of her heart and the dedication of her soul. She had been gone, lost, disappeared, blown away like smoke in the wind, but here she was, a shadow in the night, a specter in the fog. No wonder she had found him, the way he shone in the dark. At night, the white were the first to fall to hungry teeth, for they had no means of hiding. He knew that, but it was hard to bear any other color when he had been bred for the snows. There, the white survived.

The tip of her spiraled, striped horn led her way towards him, and with each step she took closer her black coat became less grayed out; the tall grasses and thistles swayed to the rhythm of her trot, and for a moment he let his gaze drop to her knees as they forged a path. She possessed the same graceful blood as he, and for a moment it made him smile.

Then he looked up at her face again, trailing her blue, gray in the night, eyes as her head lowered. There was no need for that. Perhaps once he had been glorious, but now he was tattered, ragged and tired.. but he could not let her know. Could not let anyone know. In the dark he smiled again, the small, curved smile he had worn a thousand times before; sparse warmth, like the pale sun in winter, lurked beneath his skin, twinkled in the corners of his eyes. "M-my King..." He wanted to whisper hush, for there was no need for such titles, and had never been; Mauja had never been a King to shove his position down the throat of another. As mortal as the horse next to him he preferred to walk among his subjects, and be their brother, as well as their guide. "I was gone," he told her softly, his voice like the touch of moonlight. "But not anymore." Gentle and silent the snowbeast drifted forward, not at all the jagged, cold creature some knew, but each part of him was the softness of snow. His dark muzzle extended through the fog, droplets of water clinging to the edges of his hairs, and brushed against the scar on her left shoulder. "Delinne..." Her name slipped out like a murmur against her black skin and ridged scar, and he tried to recall if she had gotten it in the battle which had separated them.

To his surprise, he drew a blank; he had not seen her after the Qian war. What had happened to her? She did not even smell of the Steppe or the Basin, that warm valley nestled in the cold which they called home. Had she abandoned them? Had she been abandoned by them? Or had she just lost them, in the chaos after he had realized they were defeated and called for a retreat? "Where have you been?" he asked her quietly, peering sincerely at her blue eyes. Perhaps she wouldn't know of what he asked, as he was the one who had been gone, but at that moment, he did not reflect upon his question. He could play the game of being himself, but his thoughts did not run as deep as they had.

night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com

It had been so long since the unicorn had heard his voice. It was so soft and gentle to her ears as he brushed his muzzle against her scarred shoulder. The mare rose from the ground and looked at her king.
She had missed him so damn much...
He even remembered her name after all this time. Then she felt dumb. Why wouldn't he remember her name? She had been a part of the herd.
The brushing against the scar felt soft and she almost purred - thankfully she stopped herself before the sound came to life.

"Mauja..." It was barely audible, but since it was only silence across the meadow maybe he heard.
Delinne sighed and fired off a smile toward her King. Maybe he had been thrown off the throne, but he was still a King for her. He would always be.
The mare saw surprise in the frosty stallion's eyes, wondering what it was that had surprised him. But she didn't have to wonder any long, as he asked her the question she had waited for.

"Where have you been?"

It was a quiet question, but she still heard it loud and clear. Where had she been? Well, not with the herd, that's for sure.
She knew where they were, but at the same time she didn't. Where was the Steppe?
"I've been here. Wandering around, searching for you... And the herd. I've met quite a few interesting personalities during the winter." She stopped and looked down for a second, only to look up again.
"I've missed the herd... I don't know where you live now. After the invasion I just got lost in the forest," She turned her head towards the Edge-forest and then turned her eyes to the white stallion again.
"And then you were gone. All of you." The mare sighed and glanced down. She hated being alone.

Though she still couldn't believe that Mauja was here, with her. It hadn't been so long ago since Valentine had told her about her King's disappearance. Or, it had been, but not too long ago.
"Mauja, what happened to you and the herd? Why did you disappear?" A big lump was in her throat, making it hard for her to talk. Why had they left her there?

"Talking."

ooc: So many feels ;-;
word count: 381

What were names, really? So often since his return he had heard his own upon their lips, a question nestled within, a sigh of pleasure as they spoke it again without worry and fear — but what were names, but words given to specific things, specific beings? What were words, but sounds, noises in the eternal storm of life? The merest breath in the gale, so easily swept away. Words bound no souls to truth and honesty, words held no moral, no honor, no magic to will tongues into not lying. Words were nothing but a tool, and names nothing but a means of power, of control, to create a familiar atmosphere around you, a bubble of safety. Even the enemy's whose name you knew was less fearsome than the one whose name you didn't know. The predator, whose glowing eyes and slavering jaws haunted you from the dark, was less of a threat when you knew its name.

Perhaps that was why nightmares were so frightening. Vivid and intense, they shook him to the core in a way no mortal being had ever done.

Yet words was the fire fueling their lives, filling the spaces in between the actions; she answered his question, and his gaze slipped away into the foggy night, across the wavering thistles and grass. So it was here she had been, all that time, alone in the winter after he had disappeared, alone as spring came and slowly faded. His gaze trailed hers into the fog, knowing she was looking at the Edge where they once had lived. Lost? Suppose she had retreated in the wrong way and not found their trails alongside the steep cliffs.. easy to become lost within Helovia's vast wilderness then. Blinking slowly he drew a breath, preparing to speak, apologize, anything, when she beat him to it; her voice sounded thicker, hoarser even, and he frowned ever so slightly in the darkness.

If she had not been with the herd..
.. who had told her that he was lost?

Step carefully, walk slowly. Had he enemies he did not know of? Spies? Or was he just jumping to conclusions, and she just believing him gone simply because she couldn't find the herd again? Something about the notion of danger, that his enemies might keep tabs on him, might somehow threaten him, awoke part of his mind; deep down the uneasiness uncoiled itself, nearly made the breath stick in his throat. There was nothing like an unknown, potential threat to set the paranoid gears of his mind spinning. "We went east," he said quietly, his breath condensing in the moist air. "Along the edge of the cliff, until it met the isthmus leading to the Steppe. You must have taken off in another direction..." And he had been in no state fit to count their heads, burned by magic and dragons alike, his mind run ragged by the pain, clouded by the whole ordeal and the long road to their rallying point. He had wanted them safe, but how many more had he lost in that journey? "We hid away north, upon the tundra." Shifting closer, the movement so faint as if the breeze had pushed him, he ran his muzzle lightly across her scar again. "Did you get this in the battle?" The question was barely more than a murmur, and his gaze flicked back to her face, watching her quietly.

night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com

The fog had thickened since she got there, and there was a small barrier between the two as it lingered around their legs and bodies.
East. They went east... But how had she lost them? She barely remembered how she had gotten away by now, it had only been chaos. She remembered seeing Mauja hurt in some strange way, but he had gotten up again. Right?
Delinne looked down as the stallion spoke, trying to find her memories from that day. It had been autumn, the air had just turned colder that day, if she remembered it right.

She had fought Paladin. And some white little unicorn who hadn't been a part of their herd. She didn't know the pony's name, only Paladin's. And... Lace. He had been there too. He had not fought her, but he had been part of the invasion, destroying and creating chaos.
Paladin. The stallion who had given her the scar which Mauja now gently brushed with his muzzle.
Her King. Her leader. Her guide.
Her loyalty for Mauja was deep and strong, even if she hadn't seem him for a while. He had been in the north, where the tundra was.

Wait... Valentine had told her this. The Steppe. Where the herd had begun it's destruction. The herd had begun to fall apart. As Mauja hadn't been there to keep it together...
"Did you get this in the battle?"
Delinne looked up at Mauja, searching for his blue eyes in the fog. She nodded slightly and sighed.
"Paladin gave it to me as we fought in the battle. I was too impulsive... But I wanted to get them away from our ho--- the Edge." The memories strung on a sensitive string in her heart, making the lump in her throat thicker. She had failed. They had invaded their home anyways, pushing them away. Pushing her away from the home that she had been proud to be a part of.

Delinne took a step closer to the icy unicorn and brushed his white neck gently. The pain from the memories struck inside her as lightning struck across the sky, giving them a quiet and barely noticeable rain.
It had almost been expected because of the fog, but her eyes wandered to the sky as another lightning struck.
Her element. The markings on her body shone brighter as the lightnings struck, making her body look purple-ish where they were placed.
The marking surrounding her two eyes shone as well, not as bright as the actual lightning marks did, but still. They made her eyes even brighter in the cold evening.
She smiled slightly toward the stallion. She had missed him...

"Talking."

ooc: I wanted something to happen towards the end >.> and awesome word count ;)
word count: 444

The world beyond them faded, fell away in the swaths of gray. It was as it had always been, a world cloaked in pale tendrils, sounds muted by the barrier of droplets. A little bubble of their own as the night's fog rolled in, further graying out the colors. And in the sky above, the clouds crept in, too, until little light remained. Darkness claimed the night, muting their colors, but still he seemed to glow softly, if only because his pelt was white. His breath stirred the fog, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted — not his, he concluded with a small smile as his ears drank in the dreamlike, hushed sound. His breath had fallen upon her shoulder, but he withdrew slightly, to look upon her face, her eyes; she sought for his gaze in the foggy night, and willingly he gave it. Paladin — did that red-maned devil somehow stand at the center of all wrongs, of all the things haunting him? Brother to Psyche, leading forces to wrest Mauja's home from his grasp, father to Ophelia- so strange to think, that the white mare was so young yet. Young enough to be Mauja's own daughter, and yet, and yet... His blue eyes fell back upon Delinne's scarred shoulder. So Paladin had done that, too, splitting her black skin and red flesh to leave a permanent mark. Dark anger started to simmer in his soul, be he quenched it; tonight was not a night for anger, he felt, but rather for comfort.

She needed it more than him, though he would take what he could should she offer it. "Hush," he whispered quietly, wondering what she was doing as she came even closer. He could feel the heat coming off her body, two mortals standing close to one another. Her soft muzzle touched the skin of his neck, whiskers tickling slightly as she drew it across his nape. Her breath felt warm. "I wanted them to leave us alone, too. To live in peace with me and mine, was what I wanted." Mauja's voice was soft and he gently laid his chin against her shoulder, resting his head upon her back as lightning split the sky, followed by the first echo of thunder. It was distant enough for the rain not to touch them yet, but if the storm came closer the winds would probably push the fog aside and open up a cold shower above their heads. Something had flashed at the edges of his vision when the first bolt had struck, but he put it down to the sudden light burst across his retina. Quietly he wondered if the words he'd spoken had been a lie. Perhaps it was, in some ways. Part of him had been content to live in peace, to be left alone, their own sanctuary of horns — another part of him wanted to ensure that it lasted, forever.

He still didn't know why they all had come to take his home away. Mirage had said something about needing a home, but instead of negotiate had just come with an army. Why had Kri and Paladin aided her? Alliances? Fun? A chance to beat the renowned Frostheart? Or did they just want to crush his fragile empire of dreams, his glass kingdom, because it did not fit the mold of Helovia? And for that purpose — would they come to the Basin, to bring that, too, into the fold of multiracial culture?

Another lightning tore the sky open, and in the back of his mind he knew that Irma was heading back to them, to the safety of her bonded, away from the buffeting winds of the thunder. And again, he caught that glow at the edges of his vision; Mauja lifted his head cautiously, peering down upon her black back and the white, jagged markings. She was bathed in deep purple and lavender, the pale skin and hairs glowing violet, colorful in the monochrome night. "Delinne..." he whispered as a third bolt arced across the sky and struck home, hitting the cliffside rocks far away. For the brief instant when it split the sky, her markings shone with nearly the same intensity, only to fade, grow dimmer, but not less otherworldly as they seemed to wait for the next flash. "You're glowing."

night-fate-stock -- dreamofsandman -- deirdre-T -- deviantart.com // i-mi.deviantart.com

Glowing. The mare looked at the stallion before her, slightly smiling. She did not glow, even if it appeared so.
Her white markings only reflected the light from the wild weather stronger than normally, as they always had, giving the illusion of glowing. But it did look magical... She sighed and looked up at the white patterns that crossed the dark night sky. They had been a part of her dreams and nightmares her whole life, and she barely believed that they would ever stop.
As long as she wore these patterns across her black pelt, she would dream of the weather that had been the biggest reason to them.

Her blue pools glanced at the stallion she respected and nudged his neck gently with the smooth surface of her muzzle. Where was the herd now, really? They must've found a home by now, since it was late Birdsong.
She missed them... Especially her friend, Faelene. The mare whom she'd worked with within the herd, protecting all the members from being stolen.
And d'Artagnan, the grumpy doctor. She hadn't talked to him during her time in the herd, but she knew who he was and what he did. She would've needed him before her wound had become a fulfilled scar upon her shoulder.
Too late now.

"Mauja... I want to come home, but I don't know if I ever will." Delinne murmured the sentence with a sad voice, thinking of the pegasus she'd met. Of course she wanted to come with her King, but Azzaron... He had spoken the words.
He had said that he loved her.
And the mare already knew that Mauja had his mate. Even though she didn't know exactly who it was, she knew he had one because a king never led a herd without a queen.
Her heart felt like it sighed and slowly broke. She wanted to see the herd again, at least before anything happened to her.

At least before she got a possible partner.

Mauja was her King; He would always be. But would there ever be more than the loyal bond she had with him? She could fight for him, bleed for him, be his soldier... But would she ever be his mate?
Even more, would they ever become parents to a child together?
Delinne wanted to, but she couldn't see them two together with a little foal. It was too perfect.
Too perfect for ever happening to her.

"Found a thin red line of madness."

ooc: I don't even know the half of this ._.
word count: 407

( follows trend of changing table~ )

Something thoughtful seemed to come over her, and he was content to let her be alone with her thoughts. After all, this was a good night for quiet contemplation, or at least had been, until those rainclouds had come along. Sighing softly he lowered his head to rest it against her black shoulders again, stirring only slightly to flick his tail when she touched his neck. Her whiskers tickled his skin, causing it to twitch, but he didn't pull away; after so long alone, being touched felt.. great. He found no other word to describe it with. Away from the rain, coming in on broad, white wings, Irma sailed down through the air to brush just along the top of Delinne's neck before catching herself on Mauja's shoulder. He winced quietly as her talons dug into his skin, splitting it open and drawing forth a few pearls of blood before she found her own balance. Well, maybe not all kinds of touch felt great. She withdrew her claws from his body, and shuffled around to better sit upon him. Irma was not one to interact with others, especially not horses, and giving Delinne only a single, fleeting glance with her ice-like eyes she deemed her no threat and promptly began to preen her wind-ruffled feathers.

"Mauja... I want to come home, but I don't know if I ever will." Whatever it was he'd thought she'd been thinking of, it certainly wasn't that — he felt himself grow very still, his heartbeat quieting in his chest, ears falling back and 'brows drawing together in confusion, consternation. It saddened her, he could hear it in her voice, and it saddened him too — she'd been with them for a while, helped to defend their now-lost home (images of the World's Edge trickled into his mind, an aerial view of the clifftop home — had Irma been spying on them?), had bled for them... "Whyever not?" he asked her quietly, pulling back a little to get a view of her face; she just seemed... sad. Was someone holding her back? Had she fallen under sway of the racially mixed? Mauja had always suspected she was not a racist, and she had never been initiated into the Plague, even been told of it, for that reason, yet sometimes even the friendly, happy ones held these ideals in their hearts... But had she found that she belonged with others? With the open-minded? His nostrils widened, sampling her scent again — no, she hadn't lied when she said she'd been living at the meadow. She did not smell of any of the herds he knew of.

Then what? Was it her desire, to stay away from their hidden vale among the snowy mountains? Or was someone controlling her, forcing her to stay away? If that was the case — he'd murder the bastard. "What's wrong, Delinne?" His black-rimmed ears swirled upon his head, listening to the sound of falling rain coming closer, tasting it upon the wind, as his worried eyes watched hers, trying to read them, read her. He wanted to know. He wanted to know the truth. But would he be able to handle it? That, he did not know.

Delinne felt Mauja's muzzle touching her black shoulder, feeling his soft skin smoothing her body. It was comforting and she felt somewhat calmer, but the thought of the herd kept her from feeling completely relaxed.
Something flew over her neck, brushing the mane top slightly before coming to sight and Delinne raised her head. An owl. Where had that one come from?

The owl sat down on the shoulders of the white stallion, ripping the skin so that drops of blood became visible.
It was a nice contrast to the white coat, but it still looked uncomfortable.
The mare saw how he reacted to her words and instantly felt somewhat more nervous. He tilted back his ears and his blue eyes got a confused look in them. He looked as sad as she felt.
"Whyever not?" There were too many answers for that question.
Delinne looked down and saw in the corners of her eye that he moved away.

"What's wrong, Delinne?"

Too much. She raised her head and looked into his eyes, seeing the worry that troubled both of them. She wanted to come home, but did she really have the potential of getting a partner in that herd? Would any of the herdmembers even consider her as a mate instead of someone they just lived with? They all had their mates, their foals. And those who didn't wasn't very social.
"Does our herd accept other species?"
The question flew out of her before she thought it through, but she kept looking into Mauja's blue eyes. Would Azzaron even feel like home where the herd was now? In the tundra? The fiery and loving pegasus... He would look like a freak among all the unicorns in the herd, especially if it was cold in their new home.

She didn't want to be a part of another herd. That she had decided during the invasion, when they had fought against them. They did not want them. They did not want her, a unicorn mare who had once lived at the Edge.
If she wasn't going to join the herd again, she would remain the outcast she was now.

"Will I have to leave our herd if... If I decided to become the mate.." Delinne could barely continue, her voice was unsteady and she almost stuttered. This was hard. She could tell her King anything, but the thought of being forced from the herd hurt deep within her soul. But she had to ask.
"If I became the mate of a winged one?" There. She said it.
Tears started to fill her eyes in fear that the answer was.. That the answer was yes.

"Found a thin red line of madness."

ooc: This sucked >.>
word count: 442

Somehow, he had guessed it right. The words came out of her mouth, a question cutting to the root of the issue. A single sentence, and some of the worry in his eyes melted away, turning into something tired. Heaving a small, sad sigh, he thought that that would be answer enough for her. If anything, he was getting the notion that Psyche ran a tighter ship, more hostile. Mauja had been fairly relaxed, smiling his faux little smiles and playing his little games, always with a polite word to hornless strangers, but cursing you when you stepped into his home, horned or not. Psyche had always been more primal, raw instincts and passion — it was what had bound them so well, his cool bridling her tongue as he dealt with politics. Left alone, well, he knew what she was capable of. Or at least, he thought so. He couldn't be quite sure, of anything.

He wondered if he should speak again, but something held him back. Her eyes, her breathing, the look on her face — it was like she had something more within, something more she wished to say. Soothing his own desire to speak, to comfort (it was easier this night, than with Leyra) he waited patiently, his ears politely turned forward. Had she found a friend, with whom she wanted to live? Or had she just begun to wonder why they lived alone? Heard rumors? Of the Plague? Had some little liar been whispering nasty lies in her ear? Belonging to the ex-Edge, the Basin, was like signing yourself up for a lifetime of slander from the ignorant masses.

".. If I decided to become the mate..."

Did the world revolve around love these days? Was it the axis, the central power, the thing which caused it all to spin, turn, shift? Was love the sole reason to breathe, live, act? Badly burned from Leyra's collapse at finding out that he didn't have feelings for her, the word "mate" stuck in his mind like a burr and made him want to scream at her and run away. Instead, he dropped his gaze, forcing the disappointment down and allowing his ears to flick back sadly. ".. If I became the mate of a winged one?"

Traitor, his mind whispered. Hypocrite, another part of him answered himself, and as the first rain began to fall upon their bodies he closed his eyes and lowered his head. He had hoped, as he did with all, that at least they would keep their hearts to their own species; they did not need to hate the hornless, but the fewer of them who associated with the lesser, the easier the scourging would be. Would he one day have to abandon the lightning-mare, and count her along with the bodies of the enemy? Swallowing he gave his head a shake and ignored the mental nudge from his disgruntled owl, and looked up at her again — seeing the tears in her eyes, he spoke before he knew it, "please don't start crying". He wasn't sure if he could take it again, so soon. Drawing in a deep breath, he hesitated for a moment. The Basin belonged more to Psyche than to him. What could he say, without lying, or giving her hope which would be dashed?

"Not necessarily," he began after a moment. "You would not have to leave, but.. I'm afraid your mate couldn't live with us." What was it, buried in the words I love you, that made mares and stallions alike do illogical things?

Imagine how just a sigh can give a thousand words to another. It spoke more than anything. A sigh, a shrug of one's shoulders, a glance... It all spoke with too many words for one to explain.
She knew exactly what Mauja meant by that sigh.

The mare looked down, lowering her shoulders. So she would live on her own, with Azzaron. She glanced back up on the white King, seeing all the feelings in his blue eyes.
He seemed.. Disappointed. Because she considered a winged stallion as her mate? Was that the problem? He lowered his head before she could examine more, and the tears filled her eyes even more. She didn't want to leave him. Or the herd.
Delinne sighed and looked down.

"Please don't start crying."

What? Blue eyes looked upon him again, taking in every part of him in sight. He seemed to be thinking of a solution or something, whatever it was he was busy in his head.
Did she have to leave them or not?

"Not necessarily. You would not have to leave, but.. I'm afraid your mate couldn't live with us."

A sigh left her, but she still smiled a bit. Thankful for her King's understanding. But what would she do with Azzaron? What choice did she have?
Leaving him was out of the question, since he had captured her heart since their meeting. He loved her. And she doubted that anyone else ever would love her.

Delinne smiled. Wide. "Then... Then I shall join you later, after my quest is done. And... I will have to talk with him." The mare didn't want to mention his name just yet, because she didn't know how her leader would react in case he knew who she meant.

She changed her focus from her King's blue eyes to the strange owl upon his shoulders. Where had that come from? And why had it landed on his shoulders, without him shaking it off?

"Found a thin red line of madness."

ooc: <3
word count: 327

Drop by drop the rain fell down, until the musical sound of it hitting grass and leaf took over the night. Gradually the mist lessened as it was rained down, but each droplet that fell upon him felt cold and bothersome. He knew that within a matter of minutes it would rain properly, but until it did, it just served to bring his mood down a notch or two. Talons gripped him, grumpy nudges sent his way, but he ignored her, peering instead at Delinne's vibrant eyes. At least the rain would mask it if she started crying — his request startled her, and he let her look upon him. He had some things to hide, which he hid, but what he didn't was that slight edge of sadness, and worry. She, too, had been with the herd a while, helped fight for their freedom and right to live. But more than that, she'd always supported him, and for as long as he could, he owed the same to her. And yet, he couldn't help but wonder.. if she knew the darkness in his soul, would she sell him to the enemy?

If he were in her hooves, and heard the same three words from the lips of another- no, don't think about it. It would never happen, and if it did — it wouldn't happen in the first place. Firmly he told himself that. His own problems existed in his head, and in his head only, with no chances of becoming real, and they could good and well sit there and shut up, please and thank you.

What he said seemed to give her some vestige of comfort, or at least peace of mind, for she mustered a small smile, which gradually grew wider and wider until he smiled, too. His was smaller, one corner curling up more than the other. "Then... Then I shall join you later, after my quest is done. And... I will have to talk with him." One ear flicked forth, then back again, listening to the sound of rain and occasionally swirling in some other direction. It was starting to fall heavier, not just a faint drizzle, distorting the view with a curtain of gray. Mauja wrinkled his face a little when they fell on his muzzle, and gave his head a shake. Rain, rain, how I love thee not... It slid around the contours of his body, would plaster his mane to his neck; another bolt of lightning lit up the sky, followed by the rumble of thunder, and even as Delinne was looking intently at her, Irma sent something which was equivalent to fuck this I'm outta here to his mind before taking off on barred wings. Silently she disappeared like a ghost into the night.

"You're on a quest?" Mauja asked her, conversationally, trying to decipher the meaning of what she had said. That she was to finish her quest, talk to her winged mate, and then come join him, or at least find him? If they felt they could live separated? It was what sounded the most logical, and he settled for interpreting it like that for now. The rain fell harder, and his ears flipped back in disagreement, yet he stayed put as if it was perfectly normal to have a not so perfectly normal conversation in the middle of the night, in the prelude to a rainstorm.