A flash of movement from her peripheral is the only warning Khar receives of Clarity’s approaching form. Raven-tipped ears pitch forward amid the snow-covered tendrils of her dark mane as the Prime Minister turns to focus on the approaching figure. Despite herself, the dappled woman cannot help but to groan inwardly.

In the months and seasons since she brought Khyber to the Peak as a captive, the animosity in which the black and white woman glared at her has been a sign enough of the brewing storm. Khar’pern expected the tides to crash down upon her. She expected long before now for Clarity to flay her open with the unspoken accusations but always something stopped her. At this point, Khar is almost sure that Clarity’s silence is meant to punish her.

’It’s your curse.’ The words the General spits at her cause dark rimmed ears to pitch backward. Crystalline eyes narrow in angry hurt. ‘I am not cursed!’ She wants to hiss. She wants to stomp her hooves like an angry, defiant child. She wants to place the blame as squarely on Clarity’s shoulders as effortlessly as the older mare has thrown it across her own.

’..Do you still think of Thara? Of her father?..’ The words pierce through her armor. The rose gray mare takes a single staggering step backwards as though the black and white mare had attacked her.
Thara.

Thara. Argento. It had been years upon years since she buried those names beneath the thick layers of forgotten fog. Thara, her firstborn, her beautiful daughter, who disappeared with the same quickness as her suave dappled sire. Argento had been the smooth-voiced viper, a gentleman with suave words and a silver tongue. She had not known him to be a bachelor then, had hardly known what being a Peak mare meant. It wasn't until afterward that she began to truly understand what her mother had tried to instill into her mind. Stallions will come and go. The sisters are forever.

At least that is what she always believed.

Silver ooids travel back to Clarity’s graying features as the older mare speaks again. She reminds Khar’pern of the past, reminds her that back then, Clarity’s had been forced to bear a child of assault where she had willingly lain with Argento and relished the throws of passion. A passion similar to the attraction she felt with Khyber.

And her heart breaks.

The knot in her throat tightens.

’The only thing left may be to change our leadership.’ The firm finality in Clarity’s voice causes her nostrils to flare. Hurt and anger flash in tantum across her pale, icy gaze as Khar lifts her dished crown proudly. ”To who? Who Clarity? Who will take my place? You?” She all but snarls her frustration and hurt. ”Do you think you can do a better job leading us? Making the decisions for us?” The sting of those words somehow turn back to bite into her flesh.

Khar'pern

The jungle is dark but full of diamonds;