There was a price to pay for everything—and life always found ways to collect that toll.

Yukito knew this, and had already paid his toll; his career and safety were but the first to jump out that window. Those were inconsequential to him, with how heavy his particular sins had weighed and how long they went without atonement. Winter didn't come; it was already here, and a regular supply of food was sure to jump out that same window due to the fact there were now six mouths to feed and a slowly dwindling supply to account for that.

He'd just have to make do, and keep the toll from climbing that much higher. Going about that, though, was another matter entirely, and one he had to set aside for the time being.

The small herd still had yet to cross the frozen wastes even as a cold night graced them, but as the sky cleared and the moonlight cast its sickly glow onto the land, they were at least able to get to the very end of the Hollowed Gorge thanks to its one-pony driver. The stolen carriage landed with a bounce and a swerve as Sora struggled to stay on her legs; she shook with strain as she forced her body to reorient merely to steady the vehicle, with snow clinging to her mane and coat as it was sent everywhere else in the process. Another bounce set the wheels right, and with that the vehicle's shaking ceased for the moment.

"S-Sora?!" Yukito squawked as she stumbled a few more bodylengths prior to stopping with a skid that made her swerve on all four hooves. His eyes widened as she swayed with legs spreading, trying to accommodate her posture to stop herself from falling.

Mira took one look at her as her wings sagged first, and his eyes narrowed into thin slits that glimmered with the faintest trace of exasperation. "Three… two…" he counted, a claw tapping as he spoke. "One…" She moved a front hoof up to a strap once the skidding stopped, and promptly collapsed before she could even start to get out of the harness, wings folding up to shield her exposed body as best they could. "And she's down," he snarked, magically closing the front curtains the instant she fell.

Yukito teleported out at her side as she flailed her legs to get her hooves back under her. Her mane clung to her back and forehead, and her teeth chattered with enough speed to shake her snout. Without a word, he magically undid the harness's straps all at once, seized Sora the instant she was freed, and teleported to the central cab with her before conjuring a thick quilt and wrapping her in it. "That does it; we're removing that harness from the reaches first thing tomorrow," he grumbled, watching as Sora flopped to the floor of the cab with her hooves holding the quilt shut.

Sora said nothing; even in the dim light she was pale, and her teeth chattered far too much for her to speak. She shivered as Yukito moved to lay at her side, her breathing ragged as he conjured another quilt to lay on top the first layer. "You packed what few clothes we had, I assume?" he asked, garnering a wobbling nod and the shifting of quilts as his answer. He nodded in return and moved a bit closer, using his magic to pull the second quilt somewhat over his own body, watching his wife intently.

Ten minutes of staring passed after he snuggled up, and the only sign her health was stabilizing was the gradual ceasing of the jittery gums. "Do you still feel cold?" he asked.

Sora gave another nod, less shaky that time. "D-down t-t-to th-the au-augments," she stammered out, voice weak and tight with strain.

Yukito shifted closer, and lowered his head so they were cheek to cheek before turning to look her in the eye. In a gentle tone, with a softened expression of mild disapproval, he started a reprimand, "As much as I love you, even I think icicles on your blades are unnecessary. You're staying in this vehicle until you get better."

"B-b-but h-h-how will w-w-we—" Sora was silenced when a blue-furred hoof was lifted to her lips and pressed itself gently on her snout.

"We'll just have to convince our new passengers to agree on shouldering that burden in the meantime, if that's what you're wondering," Yukito replied, expression not shifting in the slightest. Upon uttering that, he heard a tap-tap-tap coming from one of the windows and turned to it when a light started illuminating the vehicle from behind him. He found Mira staring at him, claw on glass and horn glowing with a light that highlighted the frown which still seemed hellbent on clinging to his face.

"She's still freezing her ass off?" he asked rhetorically. Yukito nodded in affirmation, and claw parted from glass to land on a muffler-tied snout. "Good thing you have blankets," he grumbled. With that, he dispelled his light and sank into his seat with claws lifting to draw the curtains shut.

Yukito turned back to Sora, and shifted his head to rest at her covered neck. He held back the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course, it might take… a bit of work to convince them," he sighed. Before he could make another remark, Sora spread a wing out and loosened her hold on the quilts at the same time, enveloping him and pulling him closer to her still-shaking body.

"L-l-later," Sora said, moving her head to nestle between Yukito's forelegs as she shifted the rest of her body to tuck both quilts in under one side. "N-n-need… n-need warmth…"

Yukito nodded and lifted a foreleg to wrap it around her withers. He tucked in the other side of the quilts with the aid of Sora's spread wing, and ruffled her mane with a hoof to gauge her temperature and help her warm up. Her mane was still on the chilly side, though that was to be expected, but her scalp was warmer, and so was the wing that cradled him. "Once you get better, if the need should arise, you can use my old labcoat for added insulation," he offered.

Sora perked up a little, ears twitching and eyes widening at that. "R-really?" she asked.

Yukito chuckled with a smile. "And my old pants; a skirt's not very good protection against the elements," he added, retracting his hoof. He nuzzled her, and she returned the gesture with a shaky, exasperated giggle. "But for now… you need to focus on recovering." He reapplied his hoof for a moment and tightened his hold as he did, just a little and enough for her to notice that shift in pressure.

Sora sighed and swished her tail under the quilts, mentally kicking herself for even getting cold outside to start with, and without clothes to boot. "O-okay," she answered, smiling as she closed her eyes and reflected on her most recent mistake. The carriage shook briefly, and twice with a few seconds' pauses between the tremors, but other than that she didn't notice much as she started to drift off.

Yukito shook Sora with some of his magic, and sighed as she jerked a little and looked at him. He pulled his leg back again. "We'll need to ascertain our food stock tomorrow. If we have any on hoof, you're getting soup," he said. Sora nodded and closed her eyes again, sighing in contentment.

"I-I'm surprised," Sora sleepily muttered, still smiling even as those words left her mouth.

Yukito twitched his ears, barely catching that statement. "Hrm?"

"That… th-that Starbo's—" She snickered at that cutesy little nickname, and she raised a hoof to her muzzle in a futile attempt to stifle her chuckles, "—able t-to c-cooperate."

A dry laugh left Yukito's mouth, soft and wheezing and nothing short of amused. "Then again, we've gotten through to her, at least a little bit," he stated with a smile. His face hardened a little as Sora shifted to lay down again, and he found himself mentally shelving his joy and physically frowning. "Also, dear… and this is going to sound strange coming from me…"

Sora twitched her ears and lazily nodded. "A-all ears," she said.

What Yukito said next had her jerking her head to look him in the eye in a heartbeat. "I want to fight alongside you from here on out. I do not want to stay behind the front lines anymore," he began in a firm voice. The quilts rustled as Sora looked at her husband strangely, pupils shrinking and blades rattling at the absurd notion.

"B-but you're not—" Sora started, but a blue-furred snout booped hers and silenced her on the spot.

"I'm painfully aware of my own shortcomings," Yukito said, his voice not faltering in the slightest. "But I have two guns, an oversized axe, and teleportation. Granted, I'm not terribly proficient in any of the weapons, and I can only teleport so much in a given day, but that's where practice would come in." For a few seconds, they held eye contact, and she saw the resolve burning in his baby blue pools. "If all six of us… are to make it through this, then I'll have to gain that proficiency as soon as I am able."

Sora winced, and for a moment, a mental image of her own husband faltering in combat and then being seized upon swam in her head. She smothered it upon also seeing that he did not have an ounce of hesitation within his mannerisms; he'd have flinched by now otherwise. Then she remembered the scrapes she had suffered days before, and a faint itch rumbled in her hind hocks with the memory.

"You d-don't want to see m-me hurt anymore," she guessed. That earned her another dry chuckle, one that was oddly mirthless.

"But you also heal faster than most ponies still alive today, for the old gods' sake! I don't have that luxury; besides, I am sick to the back molars of not being able to do more to help," he replied, still firm in tone, but his voice was now laced with restrained anger. He lifted his forelegs and grasped one of her hooves with a fetlock as the other went to caress her withers. "And I have also had it with ponies taking advantage of you one way or another, and being expected to sit idly by while…" He trembled and grit his teeth for a moment, and forced his expression to soften as he trailed off.

Sora winced once more. The fetlock soothingly rubbed her pastern, and the calming sensation that created warred with the lingering anger she still saw making claim to his features. "What I'm saying is… let me protect you as much as I can, Sora," Yukito said in a tone that did not broker any argument. "As a husband should be able to."

"It's his duty to," that small part of Sora's conscious chimed in. She was careful to keep that from leaving her lips.

"But he was ordered to augment you," another part of her snarked.

"Just about anypony would do that with a gun on the back of their head," the first part of her conscious retorted.

"And why do you care about him?" the second half asked, venom dripping from its tone.

"Let. The past. Go. It's the only way out of this mess," the first half replied bluntly.

"Fine, fine… don't be surprised if this bites you in the ass later," the second half grumbled. With a hesitant nod, and the mental back-and-forth shelved for the moment, she said, "But… w-we're not gonna be able to sp-spar much anymore out here. We'll have to stay hidden, f-for one…"

Of course. Yukito mentally slapped himself for letting that little bit of fun slip up until now. Then again, his wife nearly froze her feathers off out there, and they still had to account for Omega and their fireproof safety hazard on top of a foal and her friend's mishmash of parts. "We'll worry about such details tomorrow. I'll discuss it with the others while you get your rest."

A ghost of a smirk crossed Sora's muzzle, but with the really close proximity, he couldn't see it. Yukito didn't need to, really; he felt the corners twitching up and up against his own snout. "A-alright," she said, and shifted to lay down as ease took hold of her. It helped her drift off to sleep as she closed her eyes, but not before she said a simple, "Good night."

"Good night to you too," Yukito replied, laying down with hooves still clutching his beloved.

Tonight, they were safe. Tonight, the details of the more inconsequential things could be shelved for another day. But only for tonight—for even as they dozed, they remained aware that the clock had started ticking long ago.

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

Mira grumbled as the carriage rattled twice, snout aching with the passing tremors. He wasn't sure what was going on, nor did he care, and he just wanted to lay down and take it easy for the night. But some part of him stirred listlessly, drumming against his skull until he sat up and turned to the front window. He heard a faint shifting, one of fur and cloth, and looked at Tsih. In the darkness of the shut curtains, he had to wait for his eyes to adjust before he could see her shifting to lay on her side, hooves outstretched and face tightened.

He turned to the window again, and reached over to part the curtains with his claw, just enough to see what the frozen wastes had to offer. The storm's winds had long since stopped, and the snow was as still as could be. Clouds parted, revealing the stars glistening around a full moon that slowly sank into the mountain-studded horizon. Above it, miles and miles away, he saw four shooting stars streak and fade across the sky in quick succession.

His sleep-deprived brain processed the fact that they had color moments later. Pink, green, grey and blue, in that order. As light, for the first time in forever, graced the wastes, he turned to Tsih once more.

She kicked her legs out, and curled her front hooves to her barrel soon after. Her face tightened a little more, and she grit her teeth. A soft whimper left her mouth, but not much else followed. Mira wanted to cradle her with his wings, but that would rouse her. And after today's events, she would more than likely need some time to herself.

No child should go through such a thing, Mira mused. But Tsih was going through it. He was unable to change it. All he could do was help her any way he could.

Sleep tended to help. He'd let her have it, nightmares be damned.

He looked at the expanse of cosmos where the shooting stars had, briefly, been. "Just like when we found her the first time…" he mumbled bitterly, ears turning back against his head. "In that cold cave…" Slowly, a claw raised itself up, and tenderly touched the glass in a futile attempt to reach for the skies.

The barrier could let him look out and kept the cold away, but that was the extent of its mercy. It could not shield him from the pain that settled within and tightened itself upon his heart.

"Alte… Sirius…" The claw slowly slid down the glass without scratching it, matching the moon as it continued to sink into the beyond. "We'll… we'll watch Tsih for you… she's… she's gonna be fine…" he muttered to the empty air in a faltering tone of uncertainty, eyes stinging as tears began to form. In the faint reflection of the glass, he saw Tsih stirring again, curling up her hinds and head towards her stomach.

"What did… they do to… deserve that…" Tsih grumbled in a weak voice, with a frailty on the edge of breaking. Whatever dream she was having had kept her eyes firmly shut, even as tears streaked her face. "No… don't go… don't leave me alone… I don't wanna be alone anymore..."

Mira's face tightened, and his lips quivered as his claw continued to drop in tandem with the moon. His eyes went to ground level, but not before a tear parted from one of them. Wordlessly, he flashed his horn and conjured a tattered blanket, and silently drew it over Tsih's curled form. She shuddered for a moment, but then stilled under the cloth with another whimper. The five words he dared not speak echoed in his head with two distinct voices, both carrying the same weight of a burning and irrefutable truth between them.

Alte and Sirius are gone.

The stray tear continued descending, then brushed up against his muffler, and was absorbed by the cloth. Further still, the raised claw sank, as if the moon itself drew it onwards. Distantly, along the ground, he noted another form coming up to the carriage, though it was far enough away that he could not make out anything beyond that. He ignored it, and spared another glance at the star-studded sky instead.

The claw, finally, dropped from the glass and hit the carpet with a soft thud. Tsih did not wake from the sound; she whimpered as more tears fell from her clenched eyes. The cushion and the blanket started to absorb her tears, but not the streaks they left behind on her face. Mira could do naught but stare at her reflection as she tried desperately to hide from the world.

The distant figure crept closer, but still remained at that point past Mira's immediate attention. He asked, aloud and in a tiny voice that let the robotic undertone fully subsume the organic, "Brother… what would you do?"

The reflection stirred. It replied back in the masculine, organic tone that echoed in Mira's head all on its lonesome, and the answer it gave was simple, "Live. Live for Tsih's sake. We're all she has left."

Mira narrowed his eyes slightly, and two more tears fell before they ran into the muffler. "You're not gonna go away too, are you…?" he asked, again in the fraught, robotic undertone.

'Brother' was silent for a moment. A long, tense moment that may have stretched to eternity. "You have my body, and parts of yours," he answered through the reflection. "I may have to, one day…"

Mira's face soured, and if they could his ears would have rotated even farther back than they had now. "And what if you do?" he asked.

'Brother' fell silent again. The reflection turned away for a few seconds, while Mira hadn't so much as averted his eyes. "I don't know," he said when the reflection glanced back. "And I hope neither of us have to find out."

"I don't… want you to go…" Mira muttered, forming tears starting to blur his sight.

'Brother' nodded weakly, a mournful frown of his own on his face. "You are my tether, as much as I am yours," he said. "I may have lost my physical mind…" He lifted a claw and held it to his chest, right where the mana boosters were encased. "But I am still here, in essence—bonded with you. One day, you may have to let go."

Mira huffed, but the sound barely reached his ears. When it did, it sounded apathetic and foreign. "But if I let go of you…"

'Brother' nodded again. "I'll go to the stars," he finished. Then, the reflection became as still as Mira did, and Mira began to mentally examine the most recent turn of events as he saw them.

That niggling detail regarding the walkabout murderer sitting in the same carriage he was elicited a wave of creeping dread that shook his wings. Yet, most murderers didn't express any shred of remorse… much less make off with highly valuable intel with rather dubious intent. Or a pair of mares that he did not want to run into ever again, for that matter. Something was iffy with it all, even as everything started to add up.

Begging the question, what had that murderer been planning for? How long had be been planning it? Mira shook his head, shelving those fun queries for later as he reflected on how he and his 'wife' got along with a twinge of envy. He turned to Tsih, and an uncomfortable musing surfaced in his head: "What does she have compared to them? What do you have to match that?"

Tsih stirred again, but still did not wake. It seemed the dream world had an unbreakable hold on her yet. "I just wanna go home…" she whimpered, sniffling as more tears rolled down her cheeks.

Mira wilted a little, wings and shoulders sagging as his mismatched ears caught that horrible sound. "You can't provide her with a stable family. She can't go home again. She can never be stable again. She killed with her four hooves—nopony would want a foal soldier," that scathing part of his conscious hissed in a voice low enough he could not pinpoint its inflection. "You can't replace Alte. Alte's gone now."

Mira forced himself to look away as Tsih kept muttering in her sleep, and looked to the descending moon again. The moon itself gleamed purely, its light unblemished by the environment and yet dancing upon the snow with but a faint twinkle that almost reminded him of the ocean. The snow, in turn, failed to glimmer brightly; the collective glow was almost as dim as Tsih's prospects.

A cold, cruel beauty that reflected his own current reality lay outstretched before him.

Had the moon sensed loss, perhaps? The thought was as improbable as windigos mourning their own dead, even bordering on the impossible… but then again, he had seen Alte one last time, if that was indeed her spirit clinging to the mortal coil somehow. It probably wouldn't be any comfort to Tsih, but… the thought had soothed the ache in his chest a little.

And Alte had left them her weapon and drones. They had no business being in a murderer's hooves, and Mira was of a mind to bring that up with him first chance he got… but the fact that the stash had remained, for him and the others to use helped ease that ache further.

She was gone, yes… but had given them that much more of a fighting chance. Her fate would not be theirs if she could help it, Mira reasoned. He smiled softly, but bitterly at the thought. Insane and improbable as his musings were, maybe that was what Alte and Sirius would've wanted—for them to live and see that brighter tomorrow. A tomorrow they, themselves, had been cruelly denied. Nopony deserved to end up like them, short of the truly monstrous and irredeemable; left to rot in a frozen tomb thanks to ignoble ends.

It's what Brother would've wanted, too. Mira's heart ached again for Brother, but it was best to let him sleep for now as well. Tethers were delicate things… best not rattled too much.

He looked at Tsih's reflection again, expression hardening a little as resolve burned in his eyes. "You won't end like Alte, Tsih…" he quietly swore as she sniffled in the blanket again. "We'll protect you…"

He turned to the frozen wastes with a sigh of resignation and an air of wary confidence. He blinked the tears out of his eyes, which had the odd effect of making the encroaching figure that much more noticeable to him.

For a long moment, Mira could do nothing but stare at the figure as its features started to crystalize. The first thing he noticed was that it wasn't cloaked in shadow, yet instead was a predominantly translucent orange that seemed to wisp off into colorless smoke-like puffs as it trotted to the carriage. It had a mane and tail, both suntouched blond, that were fading in and out in a similar manner. A dark brown, tattered object that sat on its head bounced up and down with its legs, framing glowing green orbs that didn't cast relief on anything except the snow in front of it. Whatever it was, it seemed to defy its owner's harried movements; Mira assumed it was a hat, though the wisping nature told him it may well have been otherwise.

Strangest of all, it did not leave prints in the snow nor a shadow in front of it, and the silver light just lanced right through it even as the moon continued to sink. Squinting his eyes, and magically wiping at them with the muffler to further clear his sight, he found the figure strangely equine-shaped. And yet, it was not equine in form at the same time—its semi-corporeal nature just distorted it the closer it got.

Mira saw Tsih stirring via the reflection again. His expression hardened further into a scowl. If the figure, incorporeal or not, posed the slightest bit of danger…

He glared balefully at it the instant it was close enough to make eye contact. It flinched and halted its advance, an inch shy of the harness. The air tried pulling parts of its body away, piece by piece, yet it constantly reformed even with the faintest of gusts. Stranger still, it had no horn or discernable wings of its own, and it even raised a semi-tangible leg to its barrel as he continued his staredown.

He raised a claw again, right where the figure could see it, and balled it into a tight fist. His horn sparked once with a faint crackle, and he conjured a knife that floated at his side with its blade facing down and angled in just the right way for the moonlight to gleam off of it. Some part of him hoped this creature was sentient, and could understand the gestures he was making. If it wasn't sentient, or was and decided to ignore the gestures… well, some part of him anticipated things turning nasty.

This wasn't a windigo, that much he could see right away. It had some of the attributes of one; glowing eyes, ghostly figure and somesuch, but that was where the similarities ended. It did not regard him with malice either, or an expression of desperation—in fact, it wore a mask of apathy; lips pressed into a firm, thin line, eyes seemingly staring past him, and ears perked to attention. It did not swivel or jerk head or limb, yet still held an air of alertness around it.

He noticed the figure's posture soon after. It was tense, yes, but also ramrod straight—not in the militaristic, obedient sense, or of a pony strung up on the world's biggest ego trip, but rather that of something that seemed to know what it was getting into. And then getting into it anyway, for a reason he could not place—the still-raised leg did not descend yet, and by now it should have done so. Bravery or foolishness didn't matter; at least, for the moment, since one had yet to breach the final line in the snow that would spur Mira into scrambling out of the carriage and attacking.

Strange creature, this thing was. With the gall to even approach the carriage to begin with. That by itself was enough to set off several alarm bells in his head. He studied it carefully, waiting for it to strike or turn tail or something else, and yet… it did nothing of the sort. It simply stared back, leg half-raised, glowing lights that tried to pass for eyes focused on him and nothing else.

He, in turn, was far too focused on it to notice anything past it.

The stare-off lasted for a whole hour, both pony and semi-tangible thing staying almost perfectly motionless in that time. It was as if both had, spontaneously, froze without warning—out here, they may well have. The evidence to the contrary, being the creature's still-wisping form, had itself slowed phenomenally enough that if he were hard-pressed, Mira could've seen all four of its legs fading in and out of reality itself. Mira wanted to move first, but held in the urge—for one claw placed wrong could spell disaster for him and Tsih.

Against this thing, whatever it was, direct combat was a risk he could not afford but realized he may have to take the option all the same. He had a promise to keep. He wasn't going to let that happen.

Whether the creature was concerned with his woes, or even had the capacity to be concerned about such matters, would prove to be another matter entirely.

The critical first move, inevitable as it was in this situation, would tell him all he needed to know no matter which way things took a turn for.