"Staluk!"
Camellia's shout was equal parts reprimanding and suddenly terrified. And it seemed she had a right to be.
Lakali, who had been watching the conversation in silence with that soft, warm glow to her eyes, suddenly lifted her head and straightened her spine. Staluk was not small, but as the Keeper of the Moonlit Glade gripped her staff and held it across her body in a clear defensive stance, allowing herself to draw up to her full height, she suddenly towered over him. The points of her antlers glinted in the twilight, wickedly sharp, and the warm had abruptly left her eyes.
"I have tolerated your presence here, mortal, for her sake. But do not think you may trespass the borders of this place with such disrespect and still flee untouched."
Camellia gasped and took an instinctive step back, hands flying up to cover her ears. When Lakali spoke, it was with the voice of the Keeper--not a single voice, but hundreds, thousands, soft as a whisper and yet thunderous. The Glade around them shivered with the sudden power in the air, trees curving toward their guardian, the soft lavender light flickering toward something darker. In the sudden shadows, Lakali's eyes were the only light, gleaming gold. Burning.
"I am not your shepherd," the Keeper hissed, each word a new thrum of magic through the air. Camellia struggled to keep her feet, instinctively reaching out for her mate to try to pull him back. "I am not your guide. Your Herd and your struggle drew my sympathy, but you. Are. Tiny. You are a flicker of light in the endless darkness, gone but the moment you shine. I am eternal. What are you to me, mortal thing?"
She stared him down, heat and shadow and magic swirling through the air around them, suffocating, closing in--
And then it was gone, just as quickly as it had begun. Lakali closed her eyes and sighed, leaning on her staff seemingly for support as she allowed her head and shoulders to curve forward slightly. Camellia sucked in a sharp, desperate breath, and suddenly she could move again. She twisted around in an effort to place her body between the Keeper and her mate, head bowed in a desperate bid of respect.
"Forgive me, my lady. I should not have come here this night. We'll go," she murmured, voice shaking slightly.
"...Little Blossom."
The Lead Mare jerked her head up, surprised the fae woman would have used the pet name after such a display--surprised she'd bothered to speak to her again at all, after that.
Lakali's eyes no longer held that warmth, but they were softer again. "I am not your shepherd," she repeated, and Camellia's stomach twisted. "But...perhaps I can offer a word of advice." She tilted her head, looked between mare and stallion.
"Sometimes the way forward, is the way back."
And she was gone. Blended into moonlight and magic as though she had never been.