The hunter feels success in the most painful manner. He is young and has never truly encountered a fight that hadn't led to death. Though he had once more emerged victorious, making the white unicorn Faelon a prisoner of the Foothills, he feels the hot and searing bruise of Faelon's buck as powerfully as any sort of failure he can imagine. Manhattan trails slowly at his side, forcing herself to slow each step to accomodate for his new weakness.

Knox has grown weary of his role as a guard. Each moment he remembers Adrixaura, spitting fire and screaming hate, he feels less inclined to seek her out. But it is his duty, at the very least, to see her off. Yes, for today she is leaving. As he shuffles slowly towards the border, following her scent and the trail of her hoofprints in the snow, he takes solace in that, if nothing else.

And when he arrives at the edge of the Foothill's land, the line left in the snow a dragged path marking his limp in Frostfall's fresh bed, he is not surprised to see her there. Maybe she's escaping, at this point he could care less. He sees the others across the border, presumably both assassins, but dismisses them with a snort and a wave of his tail. When the foal comes to stand by her mother's side, Knox does not even blink.

"Perhaps it would be best if you and your friends shared your news in the wilds, Adrixaura," he says, his voice a soft, pained grunt and his blue eyes focused on Adrixaura as he pulls himself closer to the border and braced against the aches of the fight. He hopes she'll understand his meaning and just leave, but even Manhattan, standing beside him with her paws buried in the snow, knows that the spotted mare likely won't ever make things that easy. The young hunter is too tired to comment on the foal or the little gathering they've created; he doesn't care anymore. He just wants Ophelia to come and fix this mess for him.

He is still a child, a foolish and mistaken one. Aylin has taught him that, though so too has this mess. But he has learned his lesson and will bite his tongue. Let the hell-beast of a mare go free with her merry band of misfits and do as they please. Knox sees them not as a threat now, just a nuisance.

[[Ophelia will be coming, please don't leave without her x3]]