He is not unhandsome. He is not unkind. He is perhaps more primal than herself, but he is no less worthy than any other she knew of. He could have made her happy, certainly, if she had not had the brilliant promise of the oracle. The fact is that she was possibly turning down a perfectly happy future, even happier than the one the oracle had designed in her mind. The oracle had never said that it would be a smooth life, nor that the Man of Fire would be good or kind or love her as she deserved -- only that they were destined for one another and that he would fulfill her and bring her into her own by bringing her back to a land that’d once again be her demesne.

Maybe after the fated bond she would be thrown aside, maybe he would meet some early tragedy and leave her bereft -- somehow the possibility seemed less daunting when she knew Ironclad was out there in the world. Perhaps meeting him was as much fate as her heart to belong to another first? She does not funnel herself down that rabbit hole now. Too early. Too early to see anything beyond the prophecy that drove her now to pull away and beg for her freedom - and refuse to tell him of future hopes out of kindness. Who knew if the worst would ever happen at all, after all. It would be too cruel to give him hope that was unsure.

"Then you may go…" he says, retreating from contact with her. His words lending to the bright hope in her eyes. "I cannot tell you how… Thank you, Ironclad." He straightens up as she thanks him, not finished. "But make me a few promises before you leave. Come back to visit. If we are going to be friends then you should be friendly enough to tell me how you are doing and allow me to gaze upon your beauty again. Be sure to tell me when you find your man of fire. Secondly, don’t go back to the commons. Don’t allow just anyone to have you."

"The gift of my freedom deserves a gift in return. I will not be a stranger to the Inlet, no matter how itchy your land feels in my presence." Her voice is kind, assuring, and appropriately grateful, "And I shall give you that glad news first of all those who I know and might come to know." She turns herself alongside him so that she is parallel, "As for the commons, I shouldn’t think that I’d be so inclined - even if it did find me a friend or two. I would not cheapen your gift of freedom if I could help it."

As for his final sigh and words, she presses her muzzle into the hollow behind his cheek with a sigh of her own, "I would have been a very happy mare if you had truly been my Man of Fire, Ironclad. Do not let recent times change you." Before she picks up her gait and moves off towards the Crossing.