True silence.

It was never quite there; hindered by the wind, the rustle of leaves or the white noise of a thriving forest. Could never grasp a world truly free of every vibrating molecule; what would that feel like? From the subtle thump of their hooves, to the whirl of winds beating, berating the foliage, Sia only wish she knew. She thought she had, but after each and every encounter with death a beat would always interrupt the injection of fear and pain that came with it. As if to mock the living with a brutal reminder; life.

Her thoughts stalled as the hooves ahead of her stumbled. Eyes, refocusing, but not just quite; the topography was shifting, and she’d been clueless. For a subtle moment she fought against her instincts to avoid the Basin. The mountains on either side warned her of a dead end. The frigid air wasn’t a feature she could appreciate, or the distinct scent that silently crept from all directions.

Light seemed to splinter across the forests they entered, dull sources that would dance across their bodies in soft glows. She gave them a skeptical glance; wary of their presence the farther they covered territory. The Haruspex was something to behold, holding her eyes for several more seconds before she whipped her attention to the sound of his voice. All she could hear was that voice. And after a moment of gathering herself, oblivious of the context he had spoken in, her eyes danced across the lake’s surface as she began.

“I’m afraid I never will.” She briefly glanced up, and smiled before she shifted closer to the water’s edge. Her eyes, wavering and tired, watched her own reflection. “Has it… always been this way? Dark.” She frowned before a grin curled against her maw. “You’re quite graceful in the dark.”

The anxiety continued to churn inside. Made her limbs numb regardless of whether or not it was really the cold. Her thoughts felt slow in her brain, or perhaps too fast and muddled all together. At least she could still talk, and she was somehow grateful for that.

With the hopes of maintaining that grin on her face, so that it might add warmth to the pin pricks bubbling deep beneath her, it was but brief and subtle. An ember that faded and glowed before being shut out. She wasn’t sure how to react to the pair of auburn eyes staring across from the water’s face. She saw a stranger, a wild thing. There was frost about her darkened muzzle, light freckles dashing across her face, rusted red. She cringed slightly and with a shrug dipped her head and forced a smile in response to Roland’s voice.

Sia was neither graceful nor bulked with immense power. The snow was tricky, though after days of toiling and fighting against it, she’d found a way to maneuver through it. Sure-footed, quick enough to escape; rather flee than stay to fight. It was always move, move, move… no time for thinking, wondering. Dreaming in itself was dangerous in more ways than some, a guilty pleasure, a release and a prison. Carefully she shifted her eyes on his reflection as he continued, his gaze focused elsewhere as she watched carefully, intentionally.

The low light gave off warm, bronzy highlights. There were sharp edges that appeared exaggerated from the shadow. It was odd how she recognized the yearning that had - at once - bloomed between herself and the stranger that was Roland. Innocent as it sought to break any superficial appearances, for the sake of reaching out, making sure, that he was real. That he was really breathing, warm and beating with life. Not like the dead world around them, where the trees held no sympathy for the weary, void of shelter save their naked trunks to bear. Cold and numb, unfeeling and rough.

Sia shifted her eyes to stare out into the inky water’s of the lake. So there was a reason why the sun forsook them, or rather something that had taken it instead. “The Gods.” The words were heavy in her mouth; too heavy to swallow. There were reasons to be calloused about it, latent pains that wafted into the air through a strained whisper. “That’s hard to believe.”

Despite his pessimistic predictions, Sia didn’t know what to expect. Her certainty remained, as it was, neutral and unyielding to the idea of Gods. She would have to wait it out, take it one day after the other as always. But this news was frustrating, adding fuel to the unease manifesting deep inside. Would it never end? Roland’s thoughts prevented her tongue from moving due to these growing fears; to have the warmth of sun, the light of day radiating beyond the skies!

His question, while innocent in itself, caught her off guard. For a moment it felt as if she had been alone all this time, upset about the sun, about the indefinite stay of the shadow, dark voids consuming and expanding unwanted thoughts. Her glance was at first wild, a truth that spoke in her eyes that was all too sad in response. Her gaze weakened, feeling foolish and immature about the faces she would see in the spinning universe inside of dark places. “Yes.”

She was holding her breath; harder for her to breathe. For a moment she broke contact with the bright blue eyes ahead of her, before she gathered her resolve. “I can’t… form words to explain why. Just, I’d hoped the sun would shine. Because all this time I thought I’d gone crazy. Chased from one end of the globe to another… perhaps this was hell.”

And she missed them, she missed them so much; friends that had become family, a stranger that had become a father.

“I’ve stopped running. But, there are… things that-.” Sia tore her head away and glared beyond the shadows surrounding them. She felt embarrassed, and instead of trying to laugh it off she had succumbed to silence. There was no use trying to explain it, and perhaps the only reason why she tried was entirely selfish. An opportunity to connect thwarted by nonsense.

“- never change.”

“Do you not feel… trapped in this darkness? As if, our eyes make images from the things we cannot see. Things that swirl about and go bump in the night. I can’t… help but feel trapped. I have been romanced by the freedom invested in sky and plains that hug the earth. Not void and oblivion.”

Her brows knit together as she talked, disturbed by what she said. Afraid that her heart would leap outside of her mouth and profess everything all at once. The desire pressed against her chest with a passionate zeal, abstaining, pushing back because she knew what it would look like.

Victim. Coward.

Perhaps it was more than stereotypes, it may have been as simple as pride. A sense of worth that seemed to hinge on what she decided to share. To unravel what already lies unlocked and scattered, or to pick up each piece, acknowledge the weight of each portion, and decide whether or not it should be forgotten or held on to.

A wave of relief spread throughout her when she realized he understood, regardless of simplicity. It did not ease the tension building in her chest, but she could at least trust that her minute grievances did not appear shallow or naïve. She inclined her head gently towards him, before resting her eyes on his reflection. When he began to speak again she remained silent, glancing briefly with the slightest of smiles by his response. For the most part she had entered these lands with a timid demeanor, hardened during bouts of pauses for the sake of maintaining composure. But as they stood there, as she listened, she was beginning to find herself more at ease. Despite the fine ire etched in a laugh that seemed to escape quickly into the open, it felt safe to share these anecdotes.

At once her eyes gawked at him. Staring incredulously as he described his first ever Basin encounter. Only because she had drilled, on numerous occasions, rules that would have prevented her from taking that risk. It almost didn’t make sense to her, but then she had never traveled on her own for months before. An unannounced guffaw rang in the air, idiotically hitched and smothered immediately with a shameful duck.

“You must have scorned them enough to do so!” The grin on her face was all she could do to stop herself from laughing. As if given any opportunity to express joy was an opportunity best cherished. Though her joy was in itself always a shade darker than its former appearance. Glowing instead of brightly shinning, a mirth that was not wasted for the sake of wanting more. As if she had to guard this unannounced amusement should it seem inappropriate or unwise; for the time being she couldn’t distinguish whether it was or not.

But this account had also made her frown. Her smile began to fade while her brain churned; it shouldn’t have been tragic, really. Though the whole ordeal all at once, appeared trivial and trifling. Did he mean it when he’d said, I feel trapped in the dark as much as I feel strangled by the mountains around us…? She tried imagining it herself, recalling how weary – and weary still – she’d been for days. Had Roland been searching for a home? Was he still looking for one? Would she ever really find one, too?

So, if it makes you feel any better, I too have felt trapped since the moment of my arrival. Her eyes, sobered as the laughter danced off. But having found laughter in such a dismal world she caught as much as she could before it could thin out and disappear. Perhaps her eyes had grown warm then because she understood – at least, in the most simple and archaic sense yet – that in search of a home one often becomes lonely without one.

“No. Not really.” Once more she laughed. What she had said sounded oddly optimistic for once in the tone of her voice. Light, cheerful almost.

“I can hope for safety. Though I often fail to trust safety… I can’t trust whom I don’t see. But if you say so, than perhaps there is some merit in that.” As sad as it was, pathetic even, she couldn’t trust herself to keep safe let alone a herd land she knew very little of. And despite all safety measures, when it would seem impossible, bad things tend to happen regardless. It was too soon, she thought, to think she was completely safe now. A sense of fear would always accompany the desire to find peace, because peace appeared so fragile amidst a world accustomed to warring more than it was to healing.

“A horn? But what’s the difference?” Did they not all bleed and die? Would that indicate that she had accepted help from war mongers bent on eradicating the earth of anything and all who did not have horns? Had she been stupid?

“Where are we Roland? What kind of place is the Basin?”

Instincts. Or rather, a lack thereof; Sia had allowed her emotions to cloud her judgment (more than she would ever realize). They must have discussed this before hand, but for said reasons she couldn’t recall them. She didn’t even know what the state was like in these parts, what the other herd lands were like. Would she stay regardless?

Sia just felt plainly stupid at that moment. As young as she was… it wasn’t a good enough excuse to ignore the obvious. Especially after carrying the weight of her guilt, having abandoned her kin on the whims of survival and the infuriating desire to thrive and live. What did it all mean?

It was as though her words stood burning before her. The indents and sharp creases to her eyes stiff, aching to be answered; how long would this take? She couldn’t decipher Roland’s eyes, she didn’t understand or recognized pity even if it was briefly grown by some variant in those clear blues. The look was foreign, and it made the steady calm fracture so very minutely under Roland’s gaze, triggering the subtle flutter behind her chest, the familiar prickling crawling up her legs.

She should have been used to all of it, and having been raised in lands that thrived merely on survival alone, she should have been blessed to find any home regardless of its beliefs. But having been given two paths, a freedom rarely observed or provided between heathens in the wilds, the lack of knowledge burned in the air with a calloused laugh.

She stood silent as his words drifted, low and soft; she stepped closer.

“The Basin is a place for Unicorns…,-“ It was hard for the young one to appreciate his candid humour. More so to appreciate the gifts that he had mentioned would truly come to pass, the rewards for serving a cause that appeared to burn at the back of her skull. As these words congealed into coherent words, making sense, and too much of that sense, the youth found herself turning her head away to look at the shifting, pulsing movement of the waters. She saw two faces, two lives behind the canvass of a growing empire; and how small and fragile they were, under the void, under the canopy of ideals far larger than what both of them had originally brought to the ‘table’. And having been brought to the Basin’s table, they would be crafted into useful bodies for the purposes of the crafter, their leaders.

Her face shifted into a blank and unfeeling appearance, lost in whichever throes her thoughts had left her. The previous laughter had all but sucked out of her from the shroud that covered them, flushed from the nervous, frustrated idiocy that had since rolled over as Roland explained what made the Basin.

Her ear closest to him shifted up, as her eye caught his with his final remarks. Encouragement, all so inviting sprang from his lips; every word seemed so sure that Sia would have rather accepted the terms and be done with morals. Who needed morals when one wasn’t lonely, running, always escaping danger without having a chance to live life for what it might be? With people…

But it was all she had brought with her, those codes that had burned brightly every time a life was taken from her. Regardless of species, the injustices witnessed on every leg they crossed burnt nightmares into her sleep, too many goodbyes to paint a dreamscape of neverending faces.

For a moment she thought she might lose it, laugh, because it was funny how the world was working around them. But the chill that had threatened to turn her away from the Basin stopped as she saw Roland smile. Watched as it curled, soft, warm… she smiled with him, a ghost of an impression as her eyes watched him fixedly.

She would not ignore what the Basin stood for, would not forget what Roland had told her. Sia was sick of running, sick of being scared to death and relying on those she loved, simply because they often sacrificed too much to protect the weak. And she was weak, so very weak and useless. And they had died while others had suffered to protect what they loved.

There was nothing left to protect anymore. “Perhaps you are…,” her voice was a whisper. Her eyes glinted briefly in the low light as a result of the decision she had just made. Who knew how accurate Roland had been? Perhaps there was some hope wedged and hidden there… Her voice arose again, her smile no longer strong, waning. “So, there might still be a place and purpose for me yet.” It wasn’t a very convincing effort. She couldn’t help but carry a weight in her vocals, the weariness in her body that had sung and drawn out in that moment. Mentally, physically, spiritually she felt as though she had been wasted away all together. As if her soul had been spread out on a thin slice of bread, being bit off slowly from one end to the other.

“Roland.”

A slight tremor cracked in her voice, before she shifted closer towards him. It might have been foolish of her at that moment, but she felt it lurching outside of her at the time, powerful as she came beside him to lean in shoulder to shoulder; that childish need to be held despite the high probability of being repelled or pushed away. “Sorry, I hope… you don’t, mind.” She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breathe. She would have been happy to just stand there, as they were, close enough to reassure herself that she wasn’t completely alone.

[[ooc: she's so strange and simple... >P ]]

Hope.

It was odd how a gesture, a word, a sentence could nurture this action. The act of hope, in essence, is truly graceless. It only ever mattered most when the world appeared darkest, when the spirit is most crushed. And even then, hope can give out for any occasion to inflict any manner of destitution. Lasting a day or two, or a split second to tear open the deepest of pains, or no pain at all - to have carried no hope in the wake of a lonely world. Or perhaps a world rich in people.

The youth’s ire over her foolish decision on the Basin appeared to be melting. She could relax her eyes, let out her breathe as her companion ignored the urge to reject her. Fear was noxious, creative in the dark; its loathsome stay was at once disrupted by Roland’s contact. Somehow Sia, as tentative as she had been, could trust the shoulder beside her, the heat and the voice that had deflected her most recent fears.

“Of course not. If you ever need something, I’ll be here.”

As if he himself were invincible to the world around her. It was almost believable, the thought, only fools starved of all necessities would hold on to such claims. And while starved of a simple life, Sia understood the traps in such a feeling; the feeling to cling under the protective watch of her guardian, to never stray too far lest the animals, feral bands snatch her tiny frame away. Perhaps it was all about growing up; having at least some certainty behind oneself regardless of how sure they were. To forge ahead without certainty, to live despite loss… finding purpose, or perhaps one built purpose as well.

Her eyes lifted up as he smiled. She would have protested, you don’t have to. Certainly not. And it would have been final. She would have grinned despite the constant, boosted thread of hope that had radiated out from a mere shoulder and thereon. She would have had her reasons, knowing, having some sense what it was like to make a promise and being physically incapable of fulfilling it. It wasn’t a feeling she wished upon anyone; it was as though pieces of her had truly died, rotting with regret. Precious life appears to have its consequences on the living. His voice had deterred her however, the resolution sounding out from his vocals on which she found herself standing upon. And she believed him, not because it was something one felt obligated to do. Certainly, strangers hold no qualms for the wandering even if they’re at the odd age between child and adult.

Her eyes beamed, a smile followed; was she happy? Was this happiness? If Roland had found it perhaps she would too…? The expression was neither big nor small; what had changed subtly reflected the greater change she felt entirely. Her brow ceased to vex in sharp lines, her breathe just a bit easier than it was before, and as briefly as it may have been the darkness didn’t appear so heavy, uncouth and wicked. It was just a thing, it had no life outside of her body; just air.

“It will rise.” Because she would be damned if it didn’t. “One day.” She wasn’t alone, and it helped; more than it certainly appeared. “I will never curse the sun’s heat for the rest of my life… I swear on my grave.” Her smile crooked, as she felt inclined to embrace Roland from where they stood.

Although she couldn’t qutie escape death’s echos, the family she had lost and the grieving that inevitably followed suite. It was with some sense of this hope that perhaps, peace might be formed within the Basin’s core. She allowed her head and neck to gently press against his neck while her smile had faded.

“Thank-you.” And she was so sure of it. Despite the audible tremble in her vocals, a chord that had struck too thin that it had nearly become a whisper- her sentiment, while in excess of what was required was deemed neccisary for Sia to express.