"Who was Mizuki before she came to Tinuvel?" For a few moments the small gray mare remained silent as she contemplated not only how to answer that question but whether she should answer that question truthfully. Here she had a fresh start and she could be whoever she wanted to be. She was neither happy or proud of her old self. There are some ugly parts of her soul that she had buried deep inside and she wished that they never saw the light of day ever again. At this moment she could easily weave a colourful thread of lies. She could tell him a pleasing story to placate him and make her look ‘better’ than who she really was. But she knows that a relationship that is built on a foundation of lies would never last. Besides if Nicodmus suspected that she was lying he could simply get the truth out of her brother. She takes another long look into Nicodemus' blue eyes. She can clearly see love there, but is there trust and understanding? Finally she decides to put her faith in him, as she had done before, and bare her soul for him to judge.

With a gentle sigh she repositions herself so that she could stand by his side. “I was nobody,” she states in a rather flat, almost dejected tone, “just another face in the crowd.” Her gaze trails to the trees where she could just about make out the light bay shape of Ashitaka through the falling snow. He was still peacefully sleeping not far from where she had been. “My brother and I. We are not whole. We are halves,” she looked back up at Nicodemus hoping he could understand what she was saying, “He was prince. And I was told what to do. Where to go. And what to say,” it was hard to stop the resentment towards their different upbringing tinting her words. “I could never speak my truth. Or feel how I wanted to feel.”

Her eyes darkened before glazing over with unfallen tears. Subconsciously the side of her chest started leaning against the taller stallion's painted shoulder as she sought comfort and affection. She couldn’t look at Nicodemus anymore. Lowering her head she continued with her confession, “When I turned three, father was going to send me away to one of his … ‘Friends’. But … I did not want to leave. So I-” she paused and swallowed while she thought of the right word to use, “I became dirty.”

“I brought shame upon myself and my family. And father couldn’t send me away anymore.” Tears now start to roll down her cheeks. “If anyone,” she sniffed, “If anyone should be punished, for my mistake, for what I did; then it should have been me and not that foal.” Despite the raw emotion there was a part of her that felt unburdened to have finally laid this all out in the open. Hesitantly she lifted her head and tried to gauge the expression across her lovers’ face with bleary eyes. "I promise," there was desperation in her voice as she attempted to hold the last peices of heself together, "I love this baby. It will not be like my last." As she fell silent once more she couldn't stop herself from beleiving that Nicodemus probably thought that she was a monster.