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?