The mare's delicate steps made an almost silent noise as she tread back towards the Basin. She had been drifting around the border earlier when she had seen a few Basin members attacking another Basin member. It was not the first time this had happened... for it had happened to her. Shivering at the memories, the mare shook her skull and pushed the thoughts and horrid memories away. She didn't want to think about it... she barely looked at herself anymore, the way the memories flooded over her at the sight of a scar upon her blue roan body.

Despite all that had happened to her, she returned. She had returned home, she couldn't leave forever. Even if she had been tortured by a few of the Basin unicorns, she had come back. Walking silently and alone, the mare's thoughts were on why Mauja and the others were attacking that one mare. That mare was from the Basin. The Basin. Why would Mauja allow them to attack comrades? Why would Mauja himself attack comrades? The thought was horrifying, and startling as well. The blue roan pushed the thoughts further back, concentrating on the scenery instead. Jagged mountains rose high above her, casting shadows upon the snow-covered ground. Dark caves spotted the mountainside, and snow topped the very points.

The mare's roan figure stuck out against the white snow, and her ice blue eyes glinted in the light. The sun was jut beginning to dip down behind the mountains, bleeding a crimson red. Cloven hooves strike rock as the mare steps forward, her icy orbs settling upon the bloody sun. Exhaling, the mare swung her head to look behind her. Shaking her head gently, she continued walking. A gentle breeze caressed her black locks for a moment before gently placing them back upon her muscular shoulders. Lion tail lashed behind her before dragging upon the ground. With a careful pace the mare walked up to a ledge on the side of one of the small mountains. Like an eagle scanning for prey, she looked down upon the Basin and gave a loud neigh. She allowed herself to balance on hind legs and let her forelegs flail about. Placing all four legs back onto the snowy floor, the mare stood and gazed down upon the ground while the sun slid down below her.

While she stood there, the mare's thoughts wandered further into her torture. She remembered each detail, the pain, the tears, and the blood. She had fled when she could've ran, she fled when she could've fought. She despised herself for it, the way she had fled like a coward. Shifting her gaze to the small speckles in the sky, the mare watched the black birds fly, swooping, diving, and spiraling downward. It was only then she realized one of the birds was staying back, spiraling slower than the others. They seemed to ignore it, leaving it on it's own. The way it called out, it sounded rejected and hurt. The way I feel... The mare's voice rang through her pearl white skull, bouncing off the solid walls.

But things have changed. The mare was different now. She had hatred coursing through her bodies, hatred of the hornless. Hatred of those who had attacked her. She was a body filled with hatred, and nothing more. And she was determined to prove that she hated the hornless. But what would Mauja think? The question rolled inside her mind, appearing to be taunting her. She snorted, trying to push it away. Who cares what Mauja thought? Staring at the sky and pushing away any of her thoughts, the mare watched as the stars rose high into the sky, twinkling far above her regal head.

[[This post went absolutely no where. :P]]

"speech"

Leyra
queen of crimson ice, so delicate

Being as young as I was, it didn’t take much for the simple quiet life to cause innumerable amounts of fun. Momma kept things relatively easy, she sheltered me from gossiping ears and made sure that all my needs were well met. I had gotten lucky, my existence wouldn’t be shortened by lack of nourishment or the luster of hate. No, she cherished me as if I was her beloved treasure; and in a way it felt like I was. Through her I was already learning valuable lessons, how to love and show affection. When to be silent, and when to speak. How to speak. More often than not I spoke before thinking, and often confused words and images together.

One quiet evening, I heard a sound. A cry in the dark, spinning tales of woo. Children had a way of slipping past their guardians without notice. I wasn’t a disobedient youth, but when the shrill call came rising through the trees and mother didn’t stir, my limbs found themselves silently removed from her side and trailing toward the direction of said voice. She was deep in slumber, those silver eyes closed in peaceful dreams that I didn’t have the heart pry open.

Plum appendages stumbled across the rocky terrain. Walking had become easier over the past week, my body felt stronger, less encumbered by the weakness of infancy. Yet with all my practice, every so often a stone would hit my soft shoes, causing balance to fail and me to trip a little. After walking for a few minutes, I paused, testing all the new scents that had arisen on my little adventure. I searched the scattering of trees with face lifted, and little dual eyes peering through the darkening space ahead. Near the mountains face I noticed something odd; or well…odd to me. A shape flickered once, picked up by the valley wind. My eyes followed the silky tendrils realizing that the shape was hair, and attached to the hair was another creature standing upon the edge of a cliff. Instantly curious I stood by, gazing up at the shadow thing without fear or worry. I watched her as I might have watched a grasshopper or butterfly, all the while wondering what might happen next.

The mare was unaware of the child's presence, too busy caught in her own thoughts. She was gazing off in the distance when out of the corner of her eye she spotted a purple figure. Tilting her elegant head, the mare saw the young filly. Snorting with both distaste and discomfort, the mare parted her lips and began to speak. "What are you doing out so late little one? Your mother and your father might worry. Now tell me, who is your mother and father?" Staring at the child, the mare couldn't figure out who the child's parents were by just looks. She'd have to wait for the child to tell her. That is, if the child even knew who her parents were.

The mare swept her lion tail, letting it drag across the ground. The mare's icy gaze was dragged over the filly, from her smokey blue mane and tail to her little blue horn. A blue snowflake pattern came over her left eye, and her eyes were a deep blue. The mare had a child too, a little racist filly. How old was she now? Six or so months was the mare's guess... Speaking of her daughter, she should probably talk to her soon. Tossing her head, the mare tried to think about her daughter some more. They were torn apart, her daughter and her. And Descaro... he was in the past.

With head held high, the mare's thoughts drifted to her journey. So many horses had met her on her travels. A few of them were horned, a few hornless... the hornless... well... the mare had rid the world of them. Exterminated them, shall we say... no... that sounds like she wandered about crushing bugs or rodents. But that was what they were... rodents, pests that should forever be removed from this planet.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, the female brute glanced at the child, long pillars taking her towards the child. "What is your name?" Head tilted to the side slightly, the mare lowered her neck and kept her audits forward. A child so young, wandering far from her mother... how bad. But you let your child wander away... The voice of the mare rang through her head. She ignored her own thoughts and shook her head slightly, still gazing at the lavender filly.

[[Bleh. Dx]]

"speech"

Leyra
queen of crimson ice, so delicate

It was easy to go unnoticed. I was a little filly in a very large world. Eventually though, the appaloosa mare must have saw me. That head turned and those eyes obviously bore into me with an intent only the lords knew of. Conspicuously my body grew very rigid, as if I had been caught in the act of doing something naughty. Though it was a mystery to a young mind as to what crime had been committed. Still, things seemed easier when the strange woman was looking away and I was free to gawk openly at her. Now it just felt uncomfortable to know that she was staring back. Soundlessly I retracted a single step, thinking about my momma and that perhaps I might should have stayed put.

The beryl toned mare starts to speak using her mouth. ”What are you doing out so late little one? Your mother and your father might worry. Now tell me, who is your mother and father?" My eyes lock onto those lips, little brows narrowing in frustration. Why did everyone speak with their mouths? It was so much easier to talk through a mind link. Momma hadn’t thrust me in the crowds to really get to know people, so I had only come across a few who talked like her. Words are not easily followed, the icy woman speaks in a tone that seems cool and uncaring. Not warm and loving like Momma’s tone.

My hindquarters tense when she starts walking toward me. Another step is taken backwards as the silence burns my ears and mouth trembles open in a soundless gasp that comes out as a puff of white smoky air. "What is your name?" She was so much taller than me, and far more graceful; stumbling away was certainly not an option. For a long moment all I can do is stare up at her, my dual colored eyes locked on her face. Finally I dared to reach out, not physically, spiritually I stretched to touch her mind. The invisible fingers of my power curled around the recesses of a foreign brain. Gently I pried and whispered my name in a way that would make one think it was the wind who had just spoken.

Sielu

I attempt to show her Momma, who was currently hidden from sight yet only a few hundred yards away. The image itself is clear picture, but what makes it more special is the emotion of love that follows, “m-m-omma…” my spirit says softly in broken syllables. Just as rapidly as the image appeared, my red haired dam disappears and another canvas emerges. This one is of the woman who stood in front of me, and her mournful cry that I had followed. Tacked on at the end is a sense of bewilderment; because my little mind still wondered one thing.

Why had she cried out?

The little lavender filly didn't speak at first, she just stared at the mare. She seemed fixed on her dark lips that moved as the words slip from her lips. Staring at the child, the mare waited for her reply. But all the little purple foal did was start making motions with her lips. Tilting her head to the side, the blue roan was confused. Why was she not speaking? Was she afraid of her? The questions began to bubble to the surface of her mind, jabbing at her like long, cold fingers. The mare tries to fend off the memories, giving a loud snort.

When the mare advanced, the child shrunk away from her. Small dark lips trembled, and the brutish mare's icy gaze settled upon the small trembling kissers. Nervous or cold, the mare thought to herself. As the filly stared at her with her dual colored eyes, the mare felt as though something was trying to get inside. Inside her mind, trying to pry her open. Staring at the child, the mare was wide eyed with surprise as she heard a faint, childish whisper. Sielu? Tilting her head forward, the mare smiled. "Nice to meet you, Sielu." Closing her dark lips, the mare felt the little fingers continue to grasp her mind. A mental image drifted into her white cranium. An image of a mare's slender black form, long red locks falling down to her shoulders. A gnarly horn coming from her brow. "Faelene?" The faint memories of the mare began to find their way into the mare's head. She had only seen her once, and that was long ago. The first time she had seen her, Faelene had made a comical entrance. Back in the Edge... The mare sighed as she thought of her old home, the cliff covered in trees. How long had it been since the Quian had taken over?

Before the mare could complete her thoughts on Faelene, an image of her crying out flickered from the child's mind to hers. Icy orbs grew larger, and a delicate, almost insane smile crept upon the mare's face. She... she... should she explain to the child why she had cried out? Should she do it? Could she do it? Gazing at the filly, the mare inhaled and exhaled. She opened her dark lips, and spoke. "Would you really like to know why I cried out?" The mare hesitated, but did not wait for the child to answer. Taking a few gulps of air, the mare began. "Well... I was attacked by some members of the herd... for helping a pegasus. And I've have feelings for a stallion who does not feel the same way..." Flicking her tail, the mare realized that she must've looked really weird. She had gazed off, and her eyes had dulled. "You're too young for things like this." Shaking her mane, the mare relaxed her muscles, letting small, foggy white clouds slide from her nostrils.

The mare glanced at the little filly, wondering why she hadn't shown her her father. Does she not know him? The thought worried the mare. Glancing about the area, the mare wondering if Faelene was anywhere nearby. She peered at the lavender girl, advancing forward. There was the lingering wonder of who the father of Sielu was. "Do you know who your father is?" Tilting her head, the mare flicked her leonine tail, lifting it above the filly. She slowly began to lower her tail, the dark hair brushing along the young filly's spine. Smiling, the mare perked her dark audits forward and waited for Sielu to answer her.

[[ I don't know if Leyra was able to see the one image of her crying out, if so, I can change it. ;)]]

"speech"

Leyra
queen of crimson ice, so delicate

The appaloosa mare spoke again, this time addressing me by my namesake coupled with a soft and formal greeting. At least she had understood me, and it was also reliving to know that her knowledge extended to my mother as well. The light of faint recognition blazes in the crystal stare, a sign I had come to know well as understanding. “Faelene?” Yes, I thought quietly, that was my mother’s name. I didn’t move to assure this through our temporary bond, instead my lips curved into a smile. All traces of fear vanishing to the wind; if she knew mother then all was right in my frame of mind.

She smiled back at me when the vision of herself came into question, I stared up; my grin faltering into a little straight line. Somehow, the expression this mare wore seemed different from the warm beam that was often shared between momma and myself. It seemed, wounded almost—like the face I made when having first fallen upon the ice during our last storm. "Would you really like to know why I cried out?"

I always wanted to know why. It was how things got learned, it was a wonder that my momma still had patience left for all the why’s that often graced this skull. My infant mind could understand that something important was trying to be explained, the woman frowned and started speaking. Though my ears caught every word, only a small portion actually sunk to the point of compression. What did get gathered however, was that this lady had cried because of some sadness.

After a moment she relaxed, gently I tried to ease a picture of something happy into her mind, a bright blue butterfly; its body was covered in fine iridescent scales that glistened in an afternoon sun. Through the bond our butterfly soared high, its little wings beating strong. I sent my joy to her, the simple thrill of seeing another animal in motion. A childlike innocence that could only hope to be felt.

Maybe the image of something alive and free would lift her spirits.
My new acquaintance advances, her lips moving to ask another question. One I wouldn’t have an answer for, “Do you know who your father is?” For a moment my mind thinks upon this word. I had heard it before, in passing—though I couldn’t remember if it was from a stranger or from mother. Either way I knew not what the title actually meant. Gently I whispered a word that had been learned shortly after walking, ‘No.’ At the end I again moved to tack on a question, ‘do…you…father?’