A small smile crept onto Roland’s lips as Chernobyl dismissed his apology and the mood seemed to lighten a fraction, despite the fact that the cave they sheltered in was dark, the thick downfall of snow blocking out the evening light. He did not say anything in response, but met her gaze kindly when she looked to him and raked in a heavy sigh. The dark mare’s next words shocked him, and his eyebrows lifted a fraction as he took in her words and wondered at how he was to respond to such a question.

He studied Chernobyl in silence for a moment, wondering if he should really disclose the information to someone who was all but a stranger to him. It had been a long time since he’d spoken about the war, or mulled over his tumultuous childhood. He had been raised an orphan, growing up around other children who had no real parents of their own, but were mothered by mares who had devoted their lives to those who had no families. With so many other foals, it was difficult to keep an eye on the rebellious colt who discovered he got quite a kick out of stealing others belongings- convincing them that they didn’t want them anymore, but he would do them a favour and take them off their hands- and conning the other children into doing things for them.

His habit of lying grew as time wore on, as well as his tendency to chase after the fillies, and he recalled several scoldings from illegitimate mothers who swore he’d break a lot of hearts one day. It was an addiction that had started when he was young, perhaps a way of coping with his abandonment, and had grown into something that consumed his very life and laced his words with false promises. But the dark mare seemed to be genuinely interested in his past, which felt slightly strange to Roland as he had never bothered to find out much about the faces that he met in passing, but they were trapped for the time being, and if it was a story she was interested in, then he could offer one.

Perhaps he had not achieved much in his past besides his efforts in the war, but their side had been victorious in the end, so his hard work through those bloody weeks had to count for something. He tilted his head slightly and eyed the snow swept ground, a thoughtful look upon his face. “I lied about many things,” he replied at first, shrugging. “It was done out of selfishness to begin with… but once I realized I had a talent for it I began using it to my advantage, like one might wield a weapon. Physical combat isn’t exactly my strong suit, so when my homeland fell into civil war I joined the battle as a spy.”

Intelligence had been greatly lacking, so he was one of the very few who were sent over enemy lines to lurk in the shadows and lure information from the mouths of the less attentive warriors. When the Pegasi had been sent in from Evendim the relief had been palpable, and knowing the odds were swaying in their favour had allowed Roland to walk with a lighter step. Without them they might have never been successful. He doubted he would ever meet some of the soldiers that had fought by his side again, but they had been as close to him as blood brothers during the grueling days of battle. He didn’t miss the fear of being caught, or the sight of blood spilled across the darkened ground, but he grieved for the friendships that he had left behind. Never in his life had he known bonds as strong as those he had forged in the midst of conflict.

“For a short time, I was forced to work alongside the enemy and pretend that I was one of them. It was very unnerving for me, but once we received reinforcements, Pegasi from the north, I retreated to our base and spent the majority of my time questioning prisoners,” he added after a moment of silent reflection, figuring he might have lost her among the details when he had offered no back story, but assumed she would be able to follow him nonetheless. “To answer your question, the war affected my lifestyle profoundly, and as a result of it many things changed for me. Lying was, and is still, a useful skill of mine, though it has both saved me and been my downfall. I came to Helovia in hopes of starting fresh, but duplicity is all I have to define myself so I must put it to good use. Conning is not a very desirable habit, but I do not intend to abuse it.”

He had not exactly left his homeland by choice; rather he had stretched his luck too far, only to have a carefully structured network of falsities come crashing down on his head. After the war had ended, he had allowed himself to become thickly caught up in the power of fraud, and the cocky way in which he had conducted himself had caused things to take a turn for the worst. He had been chased from his home and the makeshift family that had never meant anything to him to begin with. It was all behind him now though, and by coming to Helovia he had intended to leave his past behind and turn over a new leaf.

To Chernobyl’s following inquiry, he smiled back at her and laughed softly. “I would say you have strange preferences, but I am a very good actor when I want to be. If you wish me to be unhappy here, I’d bet I could erase all doubt in your mind that I was ever enjoying myself,” he responded, feeling quite sure of himself as he often did. Roland was relieved that he could now relax in the mare’s company, as she seemed to accept his presence regardless of whether she trusted him yet or not.

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