The Dark Empress did not generally do things simply for fun, but when Mauja had suggested a jaunt outside their borders, she had found it impossible to refuse. With her role as Lady of the Basin, it had become increasingly difficult to get away. She had become enveloped in her role, spending day in and day out accepting newcomers, scaring off intruders, and mingling with her herd to gain their respect and devotion. It was a slow process, but one she was coming to enjoy. Still, though, she missed the freedom of anonymity, the ability to come and go as she pleased. The only true fun she'd had recently was when Crowley had brought home a pegasus mare. As far as the shade knew, the feather-brain was still trapped in her lands, held for crimes that she did not commit. Not that anyone else needed to know that.

She had assumed that the FrostHeart sought peace and quiet. He had changed from the stallion she had once known, though she was unsure which she preferred. Her old self preferred his old self, but she was still learning herself now. Did she like the more sensitive King? Did she like that his mask fell before her? In a way it made her feel trusted, and she was pleased that she could get something from him that others could not. And did she not return the same courtesy to him? She was not the bare, broken mare that she had been during that brief dream not so long ago, but nor was she the false, masquerading queen that she had once been. Perhaps they were better suited this way. Perhaps things would work out better between them the second time around.

For the first time in her life, the jackal had no real plan. Once she would have plotted to gain his heart, his power, his prestige for her own - hell, she had done that! - but now what did he have to offer her that she did not have herself? It was a rather interesting conundrum, an intriguing role reversal, and she found that she was able to relax in his presence without the need to prove anything to him. Had she worried that he would leave the Basin, the Plague, she might have had something to fight for, but his loyalty was one thing that she did not question. With that in mind, it had been that much easier for her to fall into a faux peace as they walked along the base of the mountains and out into the world. When she returned, she would no doubt be faced with as many trials as she had been when she left.

She spoke rarely as they walked along, perhaps commenting here and there on various landscape features, the myriad of animals running around (or, rather, lying in the shade) in the Tallsun heat. It got warmer as they moved south, and uncomfortable for the Empress. By now she had grown used to the balmy, if not slightly chilly, temperatures of the North. The heat of the southern lands was most unpleasant, particularly as they reached the Thistle Meadow, a long stretch sans trees for shade. Her interest was piqued, though, by the rather large pair of wings in the middle of the field, and without thinking she began to approach. Closer inspection found a unicorn mare and a hybrid foal, and disgust colored the shade's thoughts. She glanced at Mauja, the old, mischievous, playful gleam in her amber gaze. Would he be up for a little fun, for old times' sake?

"Talk talk talk."