"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."

Macabre grinned gleefully at Jetta as she spoke, suppressing a giggle herself, as if not to look too exuberant in the company of the filly in front of Impa. The petite mare thought for a moment about what her relationship with Jetta would be like as she aged. She'd enjoyed their friendship so far, perhaps too much, for an adult mare to have with a child. Macabre took on a sisterly kind of a role when around her. She was happy to have someone to share some sort of wisdom with, to look out for, and perhaps most of all, to have someone else to channel her efforts onto. It was easier to numb the lingering pains from her past that way.

At first being around the filly was hard. Once their brief, light hearted interactions ended and she went off with her mother, Inka, Macabre was overwhelmed with the revival of grief she had for her dead son. Shiraz was forced to the forefront of her mind again, after many months of grieving and working hard to bury his memory with his body back on Tinuvel. Macabre did her best not to blame Jetta for that. And now, Macabre was thankful for it. The experience made her stronger. She would think of her son now without (as much) pain. She could remember the short time she had with him with warmth.

But as Jetta got older, and well, taller, Macabre couldn't help but fret about their budding relationship. She had been so easily forgotten by those she trusted in the past. Midas. Dexter. Stallions, of course, but Macabre never really had a friend of her own gender before. Maybe this time it would be different.

"Yes. I've had some time to consider it, and I believe I am best suited as a thinker," Macabre spoke. Her eyes looked to Impa now, waiting to register her response. She only recently learned there were different tracks in which she could follow. It was all very exciting, and terrifying, to pick just one. When Impa suggested they move on to the lake, Macabre bobbed her head and returned the smile with a small, and short one of her own. Her gaze diverted to the earth below briefly, still somewhat unsure of herself among the tall, Amazon-like mares here. "That would be wonderful," Macabre said sweetly, trying her best to get over her own insecurities. She turned to look at Jetta. "Don't you think?" She said, before playfully nipping at the filly's shoulder.