Marionette, marionette, where did your player disappear to? For she crumples like a used doll, no longer porcelain beauty on the outside, but shattering in spiderweb patterns to reveal the cobwebs and darkness that had stained her soul inside. Down, down to the earth she falls, shattering like a crystal ball angrily smashed by a clairvoyant who had viewed the darkness that would consume their own heart in the future they so craved to clarify. Muriel does not move to comfort her, aid in her climb to her feet, metaphorical or literal. Instead her warmth is cast to the side of the one who she feels truly warrants such, and a cheek is pressed to her hide.

Arching her neck she brushes her muzzle like a wistful paintbrush over the beautiful artwork of her friend in return, reassuring her that she may come even closer if she wanted, that Muriel would hold her up for as long as she could not weather the weight of the world. That was true friendship. You had to be willing to take your own troubles and agonies and multiply them by the trials of the one you loved, and still hold strong while they recovered. If you could not be loyal to them, could not handle the sting of the lash against your own back instead of watching from afar, then you did not deserve the beauty of their faithfulness.

The pitiful angel is a broken vase on the warm rocks at the base of her own personal cliff, and she has crashed upon them as surely as a ship manned by a sailor drawn by a siren's call. Muriel's heart wavers, wanting to help, but then she remembers Onni's tears sliding so freely, her agonized words spitting fiery insults that rival the God she so revered.

In that moment of remembrance she hates the unknown specimen before her in a way she has never hated another being.

"Stand, be strong. Do not fall to your knees in weakness, what will it do for you child?" Her voice is strong, the passion in it could move mountains, but nobody ever listened because she never showed how complex she could truly be. "Others can only help so much; it is you who must make the final change. I have seen devils turn to angels, and angels fall to flames. I can only aid you, stranger, but no. I cannot fix you alone." Again she turned briefly to check upon Onni, mulberry flowers blooming with concern in the pale backdrop of her visage, far different from the wise and scholarly expression given to the unknown tiara'd mare.

Deciding to let her be, to gain her strength hiding in Muriel's flank, she brushes her furthermost wing gently, oh so gently, against the paint doll's birdlike chest, hardly more than a butterfly's kiss. Again her violets settle on Antheia, confused but stern. "I have no recognition of you, mare. Tell me your sins. Confessing to them will only allow yourself to grow, and from there, perhaps I will consider helping you. But for me to do so, you must mend things with my friend, for I go where she goes, and do as she does. You must begin mending the broken path of destruction you have caused if you wish to live without guilt and what if scenarios stuck in your mind." Soft, her lyrics, and yet they are as strong as a thousand year oak, firm and faithful in her ways, unswayed.

Turning so that Antheia is bared to her left side, she croons softly at Onni, tiara turning towards her inquisitively. "We may leave at any time, Onni. I will stay with you. Forever, if you need me. I won't let you be alone in the darkness." She says it with such conviction it nearly scares her, but she means every word with a sincerity she hasn't used since declaring her love for Leliel the very first time.

Maybe this is what she was meant to do, to be. Maybe she had been looking for this all along, and had just been too blind to see it.

Maybe, just maybe, she could be the light of somebody else's world.

Maybe she could be the one to lead a lost soul out of darkness, whispering comfort that yes, she had been there too.

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Well hello Muriel muse. I see you intend on staying awhile. I am quite happy with this arrangement.}