Ilma;

[Castile]

and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was

Their lives, for some strange reason, are destined to remain intertwined.

Through every twist, turn, and hurdle, they always come back together. Whether it is in anger or joy or comfort, there remains a gravitational pull.

It has been months – or has it been at least a year? – since they last met, but it hadn’t been in good taste. She was angry, her words barbed with irritation as he poked and prodded like a toddler. It was in his amusement that he persisted. He wanted to unseat the supposedly great eastern sanctuary. And it worked. It crumbled with the help of his friends, and now, slowly, it is being absorbed by Loess. It isn’t domination, no. Castile doesn’t aspire for dictatorship, but with help he is helping to recreate the world, to reform it to his own standards. Friends and family are the foundation; they have all contributed.

But Ilma will likely disapprove in her maternal way. She will scoff at his efforts because nothing was accomplished with a pacifist mindset. There has been war, bloodshed, and death. But now? Now, there is a lull and peace for the most part.

”Hello, stranger,” he murmurs into the frigid air, his hot breath a white plume coiling from his mouth. Despite the tension brimming in their last meeting, Castile pushes it aside and instead addresses her with a tone that is lighthearted and mirrors the relaxation and contentment that has blanketed his life as of late. ”You left in a hurry. Why?” His mismatched eyes search her face, wanting to know what exactly it was that chased her away. It could very well have been him and his eagerness to stir Beqanna, but he doesn’t jump to conclusions. ”Nonetheless, welcome back.” He doesn’t touch her, doesn’t even reach for her, but the softness in his gaze reflects and matches the sincerity of his voice. 

castile

[Ilma]

Ilma

One night I will be the moon
hanging over you

One night I will be a star
follow where you are

Sometimes the rise of one means the fall of another - fates bound together in a way she couldn’t get a grip on. Whatever satisfaction he had found in crumbling the sanctuary, the impact on her had been equally negative. She’d taken the fall as gracefully as she could. Which had meant she could not stay in any sort of position. Which had meant for her to go down with the ship.

The common lands are her only homes, now. If one could call those a home - but they are the only neutral ground in an endlessly changing world. For a former leader and teacher of new leaders, that is the only thing she can cling to; her neutrality. Her ability to stay away.

Having been a diplomat for so long, she’s befriended many a horse in her prime, and had been proud of her ability to do so. Magnus, who later became Tephra’s leader, and Leliana; Castile, who took over Loess (though their relationship had earned it’s fair share of cracks). Her own queens, of course, Solace more notably due to their more similar personalities - for Kagerus she had a similar respect, but Ilma has also had to try to overcome the differences with the new near-enemies the woman could sometimes make. Breckin, ruler of Nerine for a time, and Heartfire whom she had only briefly visited to show her willingness to stay in good relations.

For Ilma, in that regard, taking up the seat of the Silver Cove’s caretaker for a year - just a year - had not seemed too hard.
That was until friends, foes and heirs decided all had to be changed in that short year, of course. Horses stolen without any form of an excuse or even some sort of payment in like, proposals of cease-fires that she never made due to internal struggle in her kingdom - an heir and a spiteful territory leader - and even after she’d stepped away from all of it, her friends and their kingdoms, going at each other.

She’d wondered if it was just bad timing, or if she’d earned all that somehow. By not being quick enough. Not approachable enough. Not likeable enough.

Or perhaps she just failed at the game, whatever that was.

But none of that mattered now. She could induce all the peaceful feelings she wanted, she could befriend as many horses as she could, or share visions of what she had once hoped to achieve in the East - and the effort would still not be enough. She could be a mother, a teacher, and advisor - but nobody wanted to have her in that role. Solace and Kagerus had placed her in such a role, a teacher of diplomatics for the young ones that Hyaline had been rich with at the time. But Ilma felt she no longer fit in a world like this.

She had retreated just before all hell broke loose. She couldn’t bring herself to interfere - it wouldn’t have done her or anyone, any good - so why bother? She ignored all of it - accepted the fact that she had been tossed out like a used tool, and a broken one at that.

Lately, even the caves in Hyaline couldn’t provide her a home. Kingdoms shifted, allegiance changed - and out she went, not looking back.

Both of them had grown, in their time apart. Castile earlier than she, perhaps, or faster, from being broken earlier. She could recognize that now - now that she had broken in another, yet so similar way. To the core.

From there, there had been only time alone that could heal her and help her grow. As such, now she no longer interfered, not out of spite like earlier, but from self-protection, and love for others. She didn’t want to hurt them. She didn’t want to hurt herself in the process of accidentally hurting them.

So she grazed, and helped advise those in the Field who were looking for a home. Not in directly pointing them at a kingdom, simply by making them tell themselves what they were looking for. Different, yet the same.

So when the smell of the dragon-horse neared her, when his voice reached her ears, she did not flinch, but looked at him a while, as if studying him. A small smile crept onto her face when he named her stranger, the irony being that the joke was so close to the truth.

But at his question, her smile lost the laugh in her eyes, and she shook her head. ”I had nothing to return to.” Matter-of-factly, she tells him what it was, what if is. There is no blame, no sadness left - she’d left that in a Hyaline cave, never to be found again. Besides, if it hadn’t been him or his new friends, it would have been someone else, no doubt.

She nods absentmindedly at his welcoming back. She supposes he has a right to say that, knowing about how many lands he now rules or influences in some way. A thought occurs in that absent nod, and the amber orbs turn back to the mismatched gaze. ”What did you think would become of me?” she wants to know. Of all the things she could be… had he ever had a place in mind for her in his perfect world?

Hurry, the sun is waking
Darling, don't leave me waiting

She totally took my post and ran with it so... here’s feels. Or not-feels. Idk what it is.

[Castile]

and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was

 Ilma is almost a shadow of herself. Almost. She still smiles up at him and her eyes are bright until his question causes them to flicker and dim. It’s a difficult thing to answer, just as it is to ask, but he wants – no, needs – to know where she has been and why. Truthfully, it was strange to not see her amid the chaos, standing tall and bright in defiance of his actions. Oddly enough, she is the one to keep him fairly grounded no matter how much he loathes it some days. He tested her patience and loyalty as he toyed with his own, but while anger brewed within her, Castile only laughed. She is the peace to his war, the calm to his anger. It never occurred to him how pinnacle she is in his life, how important she was until she was gone.

It hurt, but he doesn’t admit this to her just yet. Instead, he just watches her with curious eyes and expressed concern. To see someone so devoted, so kind, to break down and feel that she has nothing carves deeply into his heart.

Without realizing, Castile’s breath catches in his throat. His muscles freeze. His eyes search her face to see what lies underneath the question. Is it sorrow? Regret? Pain? Mistrust? Mentally, he gropes for an answer but the only consolation comes to mind is one that doesn’t entirely answer. ”You were too kind for a world too angry,” his breath hisses through his teeth as they clench together, his shoulders uncertainly shrugging. ”You took a crown during a period of unrest,” but she wasn’t his target – she never was. It was poor timing. It was a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. ”I could have sheltered you, protected you, but you’re stubborn.” He smiles at her, but it is feeble knowing there is still a chance to be scoffed and reprimanded. Like Solace, she is set in her ways. The idealistic world that she imagines is likely different from his own vision, and that is where they clash.

It’s where they will always clash.

”I missed you,” he confesses softly, speaking intimately into the small space between them before finally reaching forward and touching the soft curve of her jaw. ”I will always treasure you, but we will always be on opposite sides.” He would bring her to Loess and allow her to immerse herself in a new culture, but she would oppose their every whim and decision. She would refuse to take part in their ventures and ambitions. Yet he still wants to protect her and keep her close.

Sighing, Castile sluggishly pulls himself from the soft brush of contact. ”I know you will not live in the meadow forever. You are too hard a worker to sit idle.”

castile

[Ilma]

Ilma

One night I will be the moon
hanging over you

One night I will be a star
follow where you are

Although she has no desire to hurt him with the question, it does have the desired effect. Perhaps more than she realizes, for the only thing she notices is the way he doesn’t quite look at her right away, the way his body tenses a little as his mind tries to process whatever deeper meaning she had with asking - in the past, she always had - but the truth is that she wants to know what he had been thinking. What she was to him. If he had ever considered the long-term effects of… whatever he had been doing, on purpose or no. If he ever regretted that it wasn’t just Kagerus he was waltzing over by taking down the sanctuary - that a revenge plot, if that was what it was, against the former Sanctuary queens would hurt her, too. (Her and whomever still had friends in the East at that time. Sometimes she wonders what Velk had made of all of it - but then, he had gone to take his responsibilities as a father, himself.)

Too kind for a world too angry, indeed. Yet she can’t help but just stare at him, not a single muscle on her face revealing what she thinks of that comment. Was it really true what he said, was there nothing to be done about it at the time, and above all, she wonders, was she really that kind at all? And was the world really angry, or had that only been a certain individual? Or some? And was that representative?

It is the next phrase that seems to trigger an old life in her eyes, if only briefly - protected, sheltered, but too stubborn? Too bad he’d anticipated a ‘no’ before even bothering to ask… But she remains silent just a little while longer. Fighting him is a tactic she already tried several times before in her life. And mostly failed at. Besides, he knows very well what she thinks of his excuses, judging by the way he gives her that sheepishly guilty smile. And isn’t that all the punishment he needs? Guilt?

She looks at him now, disappointment flashing briefly in her eyes, but pushed away for a more neutral tone. ”We would have made a greater team than Loess and Pangea currently are, or ever will be.” she tells him softly but firmly. She believes it is so, because she knows it to be true, with what limited knowledge she has of the future - and of their possibilities if they ever teamed up properly - and so she doesn’t agree with him when he tells her they are on opposite sides. She doesn’t, because when he touches her, there are these vague promises of old friendship, of warmth, of kindness. She knows she wouldn’t have minded giving herself and the Sanctuary to him at the time, had he only asked (and promised not to steal away her children. Or Dawn’s, or Solace’s).

She doesn’t agree with him when he seems to tell himself that letting her go is better for her than to let her in - a conclusion she makes from what he says instead, about the meadow, about the sitting idle.

Sitting idle is what she’s good at now.

He’s wrong about so many things still, and still assumes he knows what she’ll do next - but to say it to his face would make him believe they truly are on opposite sides. That their beliefs are too different to find a way of living they both could agree to. Or, could have. Now, the rift is bigger, the walls he built are up once more and she doesn’t have the energy to scratch at them any longer. After all, she recognizes the walls for what they are - knows him from the time when all he wanted was a peaceful life, perhaps a family, or a herd. His own family, mind, not someone else’s. Just like with Solace. Just like with Sabra.

And in the end, that’s why she refused, and still refuses, to go against him any more. She’s burnt up. Whatever flame he brought her just now, what fired the one statement she made earlier - the kindle’s already gone again. That’s why she left in the first place. That’s why she didn’t throw herself in his way, pulling at his tail and yelling for him to stop, to not damage all the children, physically or mentally.

That’s why in answer to his statement, she looks away from him now, to the meadow, to the new mothers and their young ones, the mares without a home, the children without a father to protect them, the young males trying to make contact but failing so, só hard in their youth. All in need of guidance, or a body to talk to, a kind face lighting the way in the dark shadows of life. All come to a neutral ground. ”There are no sides, Cas. There is only life. We may be opposites, but that should make us stronger together, not break us apart.”

She looks at him, sad now. Knowing he won’t suddenly change his mind. And it is true that at this point, she believes a whole lot of things about life and herself - most of all that she is not the same any more, and that perhaps the work he mentions, isn‘t worth the trouble it may bring.

”Perhaps the meadow was always my home.”

No one had a side, here.

Hurry, the sun is waking
Darling, don't leave me waiting

@[Castile]

[Castile]

and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was

It could be wrong to make assumptions, but his predatory nature is to act on a whim. He is impulsive, he is dependent on his gut feelings and internalized ideas. That’s why he didn’t bother to ask her about anything – because his mind told him exactly how Ilma would react, even if it was incorrect. But everyone has a flaw, a weakness. There are repercussions to face and regret to be had. It’s happening now, beneath her tired stare as she listens to the softness of his voice that he tries to supplement with a sheepish grin.

But Ilma has always been able to see beyond that. Somehow, her eyes dive far deeper than the surface. She has the innate ability to understand Castile often better than he understands himself, but he is too proud and too stubborn to accept that. He believes them to be polar opposites while she sees hope and cohesion.

Castile’s head tilts as he searches her face to see the fleeting disappointment. ”Would we have?” He doesn’t question her ability; no, she is a strong individual which earned her the role as Caretaker, no matter how brief. It’s just a foreign thought to imagine them together – fire and light, war and peace. One is not whole without the other, truthfully, but still he hesitates. ”A friend sits on Pangea’s throne while I sit on Loess’.” He trusts Litotes and wants to believe that there will never be a mutiny or clash between the two kingdoms. ”I don’t know if you would have followed me like he has,” he pauses as images of the war flash across his mind, ”While you were gone, Ilma, a lot happened. I’m not so sure you would approve.” The secrets have been lying in the labyrinth of his mind; Castile didn’t want to tell her everything that she missed because when he looks at her, he sees her scorn when he lashed at Sabra. He sees her stern face when he confessed all his mistakes to her. Ilma refuses to accept that he is a monster; she wants to believe that he is kind when in fact,, he often crumbles in the face of the beast inside him. She gets angry when she sees him succumb to his darker, more agitated side. It’s controlled now, yes, but there is now a balance between antagonist and protagonist.

”Litotes took Pangea and it extends Loess’ influence through mutual friendship. Wolfbane has taken Taiga for Loess. I defeated Sinner and took Sylva from him and Mary, for Loess, when they betrayed us,” his kingdom is expanding, he implies, ”and we destroyed half of Tephra in a war when they dared cross our path.” Without realizing, Castile’s eyes fell to his feet while mapping out small achievements. With a heavy sigh, his gaze rises to meet hers. ”Where would you have been during this? Where would you have stood? Correct me if I’m wrong, Ilma, but you would have tried to stop me.” As his neck arches – he looks proud, perhaps even slightly arrogant – as he inches back from her. ”I refuse to be stopped until I decide otherwise,” he realizes there will come a day when the sun sets on his reign, but that isn’t yet. He still tightly clutches his crown.

Castile glances back over his shoulder and watches how snow begins to fall, and melt, on his skin. The scenery is peaceful, somehow even quiet. His eyes pleasantly observe the gray clouds and naked trees. ”There are sides,” he murmurs as his head slowly turns so that he may look at her again, ”either with us or against us.” He, Litotes, Wolfbane, Loess… they are a single force now.

Ilma’s sadness creeps across her face. Admittedly, it breaks him. To know someone for so long, to build a friendship that has survived the roller coaster, is to be more empathetic when one’s emotions are suddenly on a sleeve. A sigh nearly passes from him, but it settles into a steadied breath. ”What do you want, Ilma?” The question is gentle, far kinder than she has ever heard before. ”If it was up to you, what would you have?”

castile

[Ilma]

Ilma

One night I will be the moon
hanging over you

One night I will be a star
follow where you are

There’s always a part of him that seeks approval, she believes - from everybody. Not just the more recent friends he’s made, but hers as well, which is perhaps, his deeper reason for coming to talk to her today. For coming forward when he noticed her here, instead of slinking into the shadows and pretending they were never here in the same place at the same time.

It is to her, the part of him that can be reasoned with, that can be brought to doubt what his other impulses tell him - call it is horse-nature, or his diplomatic side, or whatever one likes. But it’s not always, and lately has not been often, the part that won him over.

But he’s effective, this way. More effective than she had been as Caretaker (she’d never get accustomed to such a leadership title being called Queen, even if it was already in the past), because she had not - as her former leader would have - declared Loess the enemy when a child was stolen from amidst them. She’d wanted to ask why, first, and instead had been run over from behind. Had she been more rash, less forgiving, things would have been different now. She might have started a war, but only one that had been inevitable, and it’s focus would have laid east of Loess instead of to it’s west.

When he muses over her remark of being better together, she doesn’t answer his question, if they really would have been. To her, it is a rhetoric one - he would have had his much desired influence, no enemies to the east, and she would have found a way into Tephra; or at least she would have given it her maximum effort to talk Leliana down from starting a war. Even if she had failed, the outcome would have been different - less, or perhaps simply other casualties in the war, and possibly more respect for Loess from those in other lands - points for trying, instead of just rushing forwards with dragon fire.

To her, that would have been a more ideal situation. But the past is not to be changed, just as much as the future is not meant to be set. That’s why she cannot predict one way or another, but only see possibilities and notice which ones are more likely to occur. And it’s why she must change now, change her ideals and beliefs - no-one ever learned anything from being set in their ways. Castile and she were innate opposites, and perhaps they both would be better off letting the other in, and accepting that the truth somewhere was in the middle. That’s why she now knew how much more effective they could be together. Litotes, being a warrior king, would have a similar mindset like Castile. Too similar perhaps for both to see their own flaws in reasoning - and too stubborn, she knew, to listen to most of their diplomats.

”Litotes,” she repeats slowly, as if tasting the name feels foreign on her tongue. She hadn’t meant to talk to Castile about the man, but now the topic was unavoidable since he made up much of their past and their differences. ”Lie is a very ambitious man. He was my general before he was yours, even before I ever was his queen, and when he returned I believed he might be happy with that same title, with another land to rule, a position of influence in the council. But he challenged for it before I could give it to him, and wouldn’t believe me when I told him about my thoughts. Instead, he resented me - and he always will - for being friends with my predecessors, for trying the diplomatic approach first before warfare.” It’s not to say that Castile shouldn’t trust him; after all, he had made clear that his allegiance lay with the dragon instead of the white mare. But to her, his actions said a lot about his nature, which had lead her to her conclusion about his ambitious nature. ”I’m not predicting anything here, but if there were a higher title to be gained than King, more land to be claimed for himself and his family - I believe he’d go for it, no matter his former relations.”

It wasn’t anything different than Castile had done, in a way. She shrugs it off - if she can forgive Castile over time, then Litotes deserved a similar objective approach. And hadn’t she decided earlier not to get involved? Though, one could argue that unless she disappeared forever, she could never really not be involved. Think of this conversation alone - but she pushes the surfacing thoughts of diplomacy away, for now. It’s better that way.

The tobiano continues about things that happened - says that she wouldn’t approve. He says it in a way that suggests she cannot know what happened exactly, but unfortunately, the visions of the future (now past) couldn’t be stopped in such an eventful change in timelines - young lives being lost changed so many things about the future. So, she frowns at him. ”I certainly didn’t approve, not even before you did it, if you must know. Children died, Castile. You could have known that. It’s in the nature of warfare that casualties happen - and you know I would have done everything in my power to let Loess and Tephra conjoin, if that had prevented… this.” She gestures at him with a distant nod that’s covering all of him, meaning his current, slightly arrogant stance, but also the guilt he must carry with him now.

For him, she would have.

There is a small moment of defiance, like before - it seems he has a way of bringing them out. Bringing her out, perhaps. ”So what should I call you now? Emperor? Castile the Conquerer?” she snorts at him, shaking her head at a nearby tree, refusing to look at his pride for dominating any longer.

A moment passes, before she lets her anger fade and looks at him once more. Her tone more neutral, though she cannot hide how much she hurts from it - all of it, the past, the present, the possibility that this conversation ends on such a note that they’ll never see each other again. She wants to be careful, wants to part as friends, unlike last time.

”To rule is to make the hard decisions, and you do it splendidly. Better than I did, sure.” She takes a deep breath. ”But it seems to me that sometimes you need a voice against your instinct, to help reconsider before you decide. So I’m sorry - I’m so very sorry I couldn’t be there for you, to help you decide, to find another way with the Tephrans. I’m sorry that in the face of all events coming together, I didn’t have the strength to show you that there was another way, that you might have had a different choice as well, to support you making a choice, any choice. Perhaps you’d still chosen this way, but...” she shakes her head, knowing he knows the end of her sentence too. Then, at least, she would have tried, would have done something.

He still defies everything she believes that could have been, and she falls silent for a while. Perhaps he doesn’t need to - it’s all done and over with anyway. She shouldn’t look to the past so much either.

She nods at him when the topic of sides emerges once more, ready to give in, if just a little. ”Perhaps you’re right, that there are sides - but only when you make them. And definitely more than the two you mentioned, or else you’d have to obliterate me as well.” After all, where would that leave her? His sworn enemy? Because certainly, if she didn’t approve of all his decisions, then she wasn’t with him, the way he claimed.

But that idea makes her sadder than he can imagine, adding to her previous sadness of not being able to be his voice of reason. To see him carry the weight of the crown and the guilt of the war that he tells himself was necessary, as a way of coping with the events. She can’t blame him - she knows it was the Tephran queen who stirred the pot this time.

Tephra had been her ally - as close to the sanctuary as any other kingdom could possibly be - but Castile had been her friend. It was an impossible choice, and she had refused to make it. And it had ended with the loss of children’s lives.

How could she even begin to forgive herself for not even trying?

She stares past him into a distance he could not possibly follow her into, and lays her head upon his back when all of her thoughts tumble too much.

It takes a long time for Castile’s soft question to enter her mind, but when it does she answers without thinking. ”A family.” A family, with children of her own no doubt, but mostly for the lands to be brothers and sisters. Sure, one sibling might be more rowdy than another, and that wouldn’t have bothered her. Sometimes, one might even fight the other, like siblings often do, and one might even steal another’s toys but in the end, they would still love one another, and make up. ”A home.” A place to be safe. For all.

Hurry, the sun is waking
Darling, don't leave me waiting

@[Castile this gets to be all over the place because of the huge topic they’re discussing, whoops
+removed tag upon grammar editing

[Castile]

and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was

Castile listens to Ilma; he always listens to her, but does not always agree. Perhaps their agreements will forever be a rare occurrence, and yet they hold enough respect for one another to always engage in conversation. He calmly regards her opinion of Litotes with a dip of his head and a feeble, amused grin. ”We are both ambitious,” he counters, knowing well enough that they would forever try to achieve greatness. They are unable to remain idle, collecting dust and sleeping away time. They both hunger for power, but they seemingly know when to take pause. Litotes held Hyaline before his dismissal, then a place as a General, a Head of War, Pangea as a territory, and now King of Pangea as a kingdom. He has been subdued ever since, savoring what he has gained in recent years. Castile is much the same. A prince, to nothing, then a Lord, a soldier, a herd leader, then a King of Loess as a kingdom.

Ambitious. Yes, that describes both men well. Proud, too.

They’ve made mistakes along the way and they will continue to do so as life goes on. Friendships were forged and destroyed, loves gained and lost. Friends one day become enemies – he briefly reminisces of mother and Amet – and sometimes rebuilt down the road. Is that a possibility between him and Litotes? Of course it is, but still he treasures the relationship for what it is now. They push each other and support each other. It’s similar – although more romantically inclined – with Sochi. Wolfbane, Lepis, and, once, Vulgaris. They’ve all sided with one another to form a dominating force. That is what Castile enjoys; there is excitement and drive among them just as there is trust and friendship.

But Ilma wants to see something different for him, just as she always has.

”No,” he volleys sternly, ”I don’t need a mother or teacher. I don’t need someone halting my ambitions.” He expects her to exhaust of his resistance, but she is a pacifist and he is a warmonger. ”Tephra attacked us first, and Loess retaliated. We don’t cower or stand down. I will not roll over and make peace when someone invades my home with ill intent,” his eyes angrily flash, but with a deep breath, he settles again. What’s done is done. It’s well in the past. It was his decision to tell her, but he suddenly regrets it with a sideways glance toward the rolling hills. Ilma wants to be the calming hand to subdue his fiery temper, but very few have that successful ability. He cannot blame her for trying, for her persistence. Humor slowly trickles back into his mismatched eyes as they level on hers. ”Are you saying you are against me, Ilma?” He almost chuckles despite the heat that permeates the air between them every so often, even just in this one conversation. ”I think you care too much for me to truly be against me,” but there may come a day. Friends one day become enemies.

Sweeping his tail idly across his hocks, he considers her wants. As much as he knows she wants them personally, there is also a greater definition in her confession. ”As you said, perhaps the meadow was always your home,” quiet, safe, harmonious. Secluded from warfare and away from his impulsiveness.

castile

[Ilma]

Ilma

One night I will be the moon
hanging over you

One night I will be a star
follow where you are

There are some things they will never agree on, and yet she can't help trying every now and then. But the truth is that she gets tired, of arguing, of being the only one to ever stand in his way. No longer, she promises herself. If he doesn't want her around like he seems to be saying, because he knows she will say something that is not in line with his own thoughts, then let him see how well he fares on his own. He's proud enough to steer his ship into the rocks on his own, certainly he won't need her trying to pull on the sails to alter the course slightly. Not if that only annoys him.

She nods when he admits he's ambitious as well - she has been, too, for a time. But she found how hard it was to climb certain people's walls, and decided that she had better things to do in life.

She cocks her head at him when he rebukes - strongly - that he doesn't want a mother or teacher. "Teaching and halting ambitions aren't the same thing. Sometimes retaliation is warranted - but I still think that revenge can come in a thousand different forms. Not burning a land to the ground is not the same as rolling over." she shakes her head. "Sometimes it's standing above such primal instincts that defines the kings from the monsters." She uses the words deliberately, looking him in the eye to make sure he knows it.

And perhaps her not being with him indeed means she is against him, she now wonders. When he asks, as if it is all a game, as if it weren't about lives being lost before having properly lived. Her eyes narrow at his humorous tone. "You say so. After all, there are only those two options in your mind. I wouldn't want to add the grey bits if you don't want to look at them anyway." Irritated, she slashes her tail near her hocks, and decides she is quite done for now.

On top of it, he decides for her that she probably should just stay here (beneath the surface, that is not to mingle with him or his politics at all). And the worst is that he's probably right. "Maybe I'll see Loess for myself one day, to see what you made of it. Maybe I won't. For now, if you're only here to complain about my mothering you and being your enemy, then perhaps it's best if you left my home and do whatever you think is best without seeking approval that you won't get." Frowning at him, she turns her head to look at the others in the meadow.

They'd probably talked too long - and as always, can't find the middle ground no matter how much she offers; both grow irritated at prolonged exposure. But there are lines she won't cross either, things she can never approve of. If they're already enemies like he seems to think, then he hasn't ever seen an enemy of hers yet - but if this continues, he just might.

There's a silent promise that she makes herself - never to get attached to someone who so easily turns their back on what she values so highly, again.

Hurry, the sun is waking
Darling, don't leave me waiting

blerp