She flinched at the sound of her name, jolting in place as her head whipped suspiciously toward the source. There were few creatures in the Ridge that knew who she was these days, and fewer still that knew her well enough to shorten her name. Many of the horses she'd grown up with had left the Ridge long before Tyr had come to call it home.

Her mismatched gaze narrowed on the golden figure of Oswin as she stepped out of the dense jungle, the ferns parting slowly to reveal the swell of yet another child to come. As it always did, the sight of her once-mentor filled her with a combination of frustration and yearning and she hastened to look away. They had not spoken in years, despite spending most of that time in relatively close proximity to one another. She had known it was unfair to Oswald and Filumena to try and stay so close while also refusing to talk to their mother, but Roi had always felt protective of them. They were the last remnants of anything good she'd helped to mold in this world and it was hard to let them go.

But it was hard to forget that Oswin had chosen Tyr - and thereby the Lagoon - over her own sisters. Harder still to reconcile her happiness against Roisin's own misery. She could not fathom why Oswin would have sought her out, much less why she had come now, in this moment. It wasn't like Iscariot finding her before, his face constricted with pain and kindness. This was more like fate taking one last parting blow before she knocked herself out of the ring.

Still, the dun did not move away from her golden companion, only looked away with her dark-rimmed ears tucked neatly against her nape.

Do you want to talk? The question is unexpected enough that some of the sourness of Roi's expression softens with surprise, and her gaze flicked back to Oswin before skittering away again, roving over the wild expanse of jungle. Her kneejerk reaction was to spit out a bitter negative, thereby safely sending Oswin away from her and away from what she had already decided would come next, but she remained silent for a beat. The horrible truth was that, yes, she did in fact want to talk. Moments after she'd sent Oswin away to birth her child after their argument she'd wanted to talk, but the words had never come easily.

How could she even begin to explain that losing Oswin as her friend had been like losing her mother and her sisters and her fathers all over again? That even as she lamented the loss, there was a part of her that continued to feel betrayed by the choice Oswin had made? The one she continued to make?

"There isn't anything left to talk about," she finally murmured, just loud enough for Oswin to hear. She left silence to fester for a moment before the rest of it began to trickle out, delivered hesitantly, as if each word required a toll to be paid. "Do you ever feel like you've done all you can in this world? Like... there isn't anything waiting for you tomorrow worth waking up for?" The reality of who she was speaking to - a mare that had given up everything for the sake of her love and family - struck her anew and she huffed a frustrated snort before peering back at Oswin. "Nevermind, why would you? You've gotten everything you ever wanted."