When the last moon is cast over the last star of morning
And the future has passed without even a last desperate warning
The audible snort from her companion would have been enough to prompt her brows to raise, if her facial features were capable of displaying such an emotion. Rather, Aislinn merely stared at her companion in a distinctly unimpressed manner as she watched him shift from foot to foot - that rope holding him in place decidedly taunt as he continued to subtly test it's limitations. Her stallion was quick to insist he had little desire to see that tent opened, particularly since his rider had only just managed to fall asleep. This, Aislinn was sure, was exactly why she hardly desired to become domesticated. The near deadpan tone of her companion's baritone voice as it pressed into her thoughts hardly perturbed the ethereal unicorn. Quite on the contrary, she held little timidness as she faced the larger mud-caked stallion head on. "That sounds like your problem, and not mine." Aislinn retorted, the sleeping state of the hunter hardly concerned her beyond whether or not he was the origin of her great mystery so was so focused upon solving - clearly at his inconvenience. She hardly noticed how he steered the conversation away from her present goal on testing his rider - only to query on where she had seen a flying horse in the first place. The answer, she was certain, was rather obvious, her own soprano voice held a clear tone of sarcasm laced within it's melodic tune. Apathy, after all, was a trait that Aislinn certainly did not have.
She was aware, vaguely, of the flick of his tail, his physique seemed to give away far more than his thoughts or words, though she suspected her stallion was hardly aware of this fact. What she did not appreciate, however, was his decision to point out her actions as if they were failures of some kind. Her ears laced back upon her head, those glacier hued irises stared at him with a hint of irritation within their depths. "I fail to see your point." She commented, her head shifted upwards, as if the unicorn was pouting, albeit as regally as an equine could. After all, regardless of weather or not he intended to help her, or be a substantial hindrance in her quest, Aislinn was determined to discover the source of those beautiful feathery white appendages. Someone had granted her stallion that power, she merely had to discern if it originated from him or his rider, one certainly more preferable to the other. It was that very suggestion that the rider had stolen his wings that Aislinn seemed to latch onto, her gaze deviated towards the tent with a newfound ferocity, even as she insisted she ultimately cared little for the Hunter snoozing peacefully within, oblivious to her presence and their discussion.
The mare was, admittedly, ignorant of how peculiar her disinterest within the man was. After all, she truthfully hadn't the slightest notion of who he was, not that it would have made too much of a difference either which way. Her interest within the affairs of mortals was decidedly limited - so many were drenched within their own sins and corruption to even be worthy of the mere presence of the embodiment of purity. At least, not these days. Once upon a time, she had relished in the goodness of humanity but now...such immaculateness was harder and harder to find. Such thoughts had perhaps spurred the rash retribution that so hastily took the woman at the sheer idea that a mere human might deem it within his rights to take the wings of a creature as rare and intemerate as a pegasus. How righteous her fury could be! The aged Celtic Queen certainly capable of seeing such vengeance carried through with the same swiftness that she had once displayed upon those haughty Romans that had thought they could take her land. The sheer intensity of her requital had taken her stallion off guard, though this too was something she was decidedly used to.
Those she had associated with over her infinitely long life had misconstrued the unicorn. Society seemed to hold some ridiculous belief that her kind was somehow soft and gentle and incapable of stomaching even an ounce of violence. How utterly preposterous. A soft snort left her nose at his response, though Aislinn remained silent in a way of response, the mare still inclined to...pout. It was his promise that his rider had not stolen his wings that caused her gaze to turn from the tent - it no longer interesting the mare as she inquired demandingly, "Then where are they?" Her query, however, was answered by only another of his own, this one startling her entirely. Admittedly, Aislinn hadn't exactly considered what she intended to do when she found the winged horse. What had she anticipated of him? Some level of companionship thanks to their shared uniqueness? How...childish of her to believe that such a shared trait might be enough to foster some sort of relationship between them. After all, she had met several of her own kind and had struggled even amongst them to craft anything beyond a rather blaise acquaintance. She hesitated for several moments whilst the mare so internally chastised herself, only to admit, with an unusual hint of vulnerability, how difficult it was to be unique...and alone in a world so filled with normalcy. He was lucky, she was sure, to be able to take part in society in the way he did, even if he was a...were.
A soft breath left his nose as he admitted that he understood her all too well, even without the presence of wings. The statement was enough to prompt her head to tilt to the side as she eyed him briefly. Here, admittedly, he did rather stick out amongst the sea of short stocky horses that called the Mongolian plains home. Elsewhere, however, she was certain that there were a plethora of stallions as tall and uniquely colored as he. "Perhaps here, you do." She responded, entirely unaware of the blindness that afflicted him or the unique hue to his irises in the low evening light. Still, Aislinn was certain he did not know what it was like to fit in no where at all. That assurance prompted her to step away from him, trailing around the tent and out of his grasp, the mare certain that what she was looking for, she would not find here, even if she had yet to come to terms with the idea that, maybe, she was merely searching for companionship. It was only his abrupt query of her rider that caused the unicorn to pause. Aislinn glanced back at him with a completely baffled look. Why on earth did he think she would have a rider. Her mere insistence that none were worthy of her caused him to insist that he used to think the same - as if he was somehow as special as she was!
Her gaze followed his towards the tent and the rider that he insisted was different than all the others. His rider, she was quite certain, was still not adequate enough to be allowed on her back, though Aislinn hardly saw a need to dash his beliefs. Rather, it was his query of her...pack (?) that garnered her attention. "Unicorns do not have herds. We are solitary by nature. I am alone." She confirmed quite simply. So few of them existed, after all, to gather in neat little herds the way the Mongolian ponies did - the way that his kind did. Their numbers were perhaps enough to qualify as a single herd and yet, if any found them, their entire existence would be wiped out in one fell sweep. To be alone promised their survival, if nothing else. It was the presence of her horn, however, that seemed to provoke a new thought within her, one that he all but confirmed within the next breath. Her ears perked upward attentively at his words, her momentary consideration to leave was abruptly demolished as she contemplated the implication of his words. So he was the one hiding his wings! She had not been mistaken after all! She eyed him with newfound interest, the mare turned, stepping closer towards him for the first time with a hint of curiosity. He seemed...at least on all appearances, entirely normal. Were they simply hidden to the naked eye? Invisible? Or did he grow them each time he required them? How many questions she had!
His invitation hardly went unheard, even if she failed to immediately answer him. Rather, the mare stepped closer and closer towards him, her head tilted curiously to the side as she eyed his shoulders. She was almost...tentative to step within his reach, Aislinn still undecided if she had decided to accept his touch and yet, her own queries demanded to be answered as her muzzle reached forward - ignoring his entirely if only to gingerly bump into his shoulder upon his left side. There was, she was certain, no wing there - at least, not presently. She withdrew quickly, though still within the stallion's reach as she answered his query with a statement of her own. "I would like to see them again." After all, she had yet to truly inspect them, at least not up close. Still...he had asked her a question...and Aislinn was...willing, she supposed, to answer her stallion. "I cannot. I am a unicorn...not a horse who can decide when he wants to grow wings." Her answer was, perhaps, pointed as she referred to the fundamental differences between the pair of them, that offer was, quite simply, impossible, given his desire to remain...well...with the other horses. The very thought of them caused her gaze to turn away from him and towards the stallion at the other end of the camp, the very one who was now seemingly determined to test the length of his own rope with newfound vigor.
Then look into the sky where through the clouds a path is torn
Look and see her how she sparkles
it's the last unicorn