[private] the ghosts that we knew

[Tarian]

They nearly vanish into the darkness but he sees the flicker of movement atop her poll and Tarian welcomes it - nearly as much as he would the sun, if the damned thing ever decided to shine again. She doesn't swoon against his charm and something in Tarian almost laughs. Of course she wouldn't.

The shadows could attempt to swallow the ground beneath her hooves and Tarian thinks @[Altissima] would still find a way to stand there, just to spite him.

There is more movement. A slight shake of her speckled head but it's a pale shade of the bright personality he remembers from before. But he'll take the toss of her head as a start. The silvery pegasus takes another careful step forward, deliberate and heavy so that his hoofsteps are easily heard. (He's hoping for another reaction, to invite some kind of backfire from the pale mare. Anything is better than her collapsing to the ground. If he has to, Tarian thinks he can engage her in a battle of words to - ...  the Taigan swamp is nearby. The smell of bog water could be a rather aromatic path to awareness.)

"Never?" Tarian counters, feigning hurt in his voice.

"Champion," he explains with an easy shrug of his broad shoulders. "Meaning it's left to me to decide who comes and goes through our borders." Not many have come or gone during his tenure but she doesn't need to know that. He just wants her to focus on something and if it's never coming to Loess, so be it. "You should visit sometime," he says.

"I couldn't let you in," Tarian adds with a stifled grin (joking as if he didn't notice the slow and cautious way she spoke, the faraway expression that sees through the shadows), "but it'd be endearing to see you try."