Raksha is far too familiar with the pain of guilt and heavy emotions to be ignorant of them now as they cross the gray mare’s somber expression. Perhaps it is the warmth of Suleiman’s solid frame pressed against her own that gives her the strength. Whatever the reason, Raksha does not shy away as she might have once done. She does not cower beneath the scrutinizing eyes of a stranger and instead stands tall as her silver-blue eyes study the charcoal mare’s heavy eyes. ’It wasn’t foolish pride…’ she begins, the voice reminding the mare of bronzed gold more of a sulking child than an adult. Chocolate-tipped ears pressed forward as the delicate minx let her searching gaze study the tall mare, watching as the myriad of emotions flashed across her face before settling fully on crestfallen. ’..just go…’ the words are meant to release them, but Raksha makes no move to leave. Not yet.

She asks about her mother, and confusion flashes across the mare’s softening features. Silver blue eyes glance at Suleiman, a single brow raising in question before she turns her attention back to the smoke colored woman. ”I don’t know that I have ever come across your mother. What is her name?” she asks, her curiosity piqued. Suleiman and Mariael were careful guardians of the arch and did not often seek companions beyond their borders if only to keep potential trouble from their doorstep. It would not surprise Raksha to learn there were others who, like herself, tended to remain solitary and in the company of a small few, but that did not mean she wouldn’t, at the very least, give this youthful mare some semblance of reassurance. What she herself wouldn’t give to know that Zaria was well and safe these days.

’..there is one I want in the Arch…. Once I get her back…’ The words the mare speaks now cause Raksha’s lip to press together in a firm and disapproving line. Beside her, she can feel Suleiman tense, his warm breath blasting past his flared nostrils in disapproval that remains silently locked behind his closed lips. She does not blame him. Even without the reassuring touch of his whiskered lips against the curve of her throat, Raksha knows. In this matter, it was her decision to make.

Tentatively, the mare of amber sand hues takes a step away from the warmth of Suleiman’s reassuring touch. Dark lashes blinked slowly as the mare stretched her tiny maw toward to exhale a soft breath against the despondent mare’s whiskered lips. ”You are asking of the wrong ones. We… I… hold no authority over the Arch. It is with Zion and Drakon that you need to speak on this matter.” she murmured, pausing a moment to withdraw just enough so that her gentle gaze can blink encouragement. ”You speak of one you seek in the Arch… but the Arch does not nor has it ever held captives. We want peace, as I am sure the boys do as well…” she continues, pausing a moment to glance again at Suleiman with a tender smile filled with adoration. Even now, with eyes hardened in anger and the weight of their losses hanging so heavily from his dull coat, Raksha cannot deny the quickening of her heartbeat at the strength dormant behind his handsome face.

Raksha chuckles softly as she glances again at the mare. ”Have you asked this…. Other? If she is unhappy in the arch?”