"They roused from their graves," she says, her voice distant and low. Normally, Onni was a bright soul. Placed back into such a land cursed with darkness was pushing against her sanity. After so many years of being optimistic despite the destruction of her home at the hands of first deities and then the dead, this lack of sunlight sends her over the edge. All of the misery, all the regret, and all of the anger spills out of her lungs like acid as she looks toward Kahlua, who she was apparently scaring. Good, she thinks bitterly to herself. She should be terrified; they will not spare her. "The dead, the murdered."

Her face is serious, all wrapped in delicate white hairs with wide, pale eyes. Her lips begin to whisper the words, as if speaking too loudly would summon the shadows toward them. "They tore open the void in Isilme, and without the Sun to protect us here, they will kill this land as well." Lyhty chirps uneasily and begins to twiddle with her mane, picking at it as if to comfort the mare he thought he knew well. Despite their every thought being shared, just how much had she kept hidden from him? How much was there hiding in the dusty corners of their minds?

However, this new companion was far from amiable anymore. Frightened and lashing out like a frightened animal to the face of Onni which softens. Her heart is still gentle, despite the strange, cryptic words she had laid out before this mare. Kahlua was not at fault. How could she imagine such a horrible tragedy, unless she had lived through ones just as awful? Onni sighs at her biting questions, looking back into the fire. "I apologize for upsetting you."

Turning a genuine and kindly face back toward the black and white beauty, Onni attempts to restart this strange connection. "I am Onni, shaman of the Dragon's Throat and former warrior of the Wildwing Islands of Isilme." Her eyes are soft and welcoming, though this mare may no longer be receptive to such kindness. It is just as well. The fear that burned within the painted girl's gut had made her act badly, and there was little that she could do to correct such actions. Swallowing down hard on her dry throat, the fear is not quelled but heightened. Still, she forces her smile to stay in place.

"Maybe I have finally gone crazy, Kahlua. However, I watched the darkness usurp my home, kill my beloved friends, and rob me of my life," her voice is shaky and vulnerable, but she turns a brave face toward her company. "Wouldn't you be a little crazy too?"