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"Oh, please, I insist," Lilah was quick to counter the boy's hesitation, putting on a gentle (albeit equine) smile of her own. If it was even possible, her lone, violently red eye appeared to soften its gaze. "It's the least we can do after all of that fussing and upset."

Toby, still loitering a few steps to the side of her, remained silent still, her features drawn in a vaguely uneasy expression. It was hard to say what troubled her, if anything, but apparently it didn't warrant enough importance to share. Taking a moment to adjust her jacket cuffs, she turned back towards the structure in the distance and cleared her throat discretely.

"Please, follow us," Lilah was quick to catch the hint and explain. "We were just about due for a meal soon, anyway! I do hope you're not a vegetarian-- ..."

"... Merope," Toby added passively from the side.

"Merope? Well, that's a very nice name!" With that, it seemed the older unicorn (... well, falsicorn) felt prompted to do a little changing of her own as she walked, her form shifting about briefly in a hazy fog of mist to re-solidify just seconds later, in the form of a much less frightful looking woman. She was pretty, even, by most standards: willowy and fair skinned, with long blonde hair in loose fairytale curls spilling about her shoulders. There were no eyes in her proper sockets, of course, just that split fanged horn cradling the one in her forehead-- but that was hardly unexpected. The tail was still there, too, swaying behind her, and she had the same distinct cloven hooves as her daughter, lending her gate an airy spring.

"I'm sorry; I didn't introduce myself either, did I?" she asked, with a soft chuckle. "My name is Delilah Lockwood. You know Toby already, of course, and the woman you met--" The word was used rather loosely there. "--A little earlier would be my wife, Emery. Please forgive her for earlier. I promise she has the most noble of intentions."

Their destination came into view as they walked, emerging from the mists to show itself as a rather quaint looking cottage: all neatly cobbled stone and ivy siding. There were beds of flowers growing in the front (some average, others tentacled or toothed or glowing, but all equally lovely), and the door was already open for them, it seemed.

In fact, it was even occupied, with a familiar white floresce scareon sitting patiently in the doorway.

It was probably for the better that Merope's thoughts stayed private in his own mind, because while Toby and Delilah might now have cherished the thought of a sea dragon centerpiece, there was one more female in the equation who probably would've taken him up it. Was he walking into the den of the beast now, even, as the cottage door grew ever closer? It was really hard to say.

At least the dog-sized gate guardian in the doorway looked friendly enough, its (or his) long white tail thumping expectantly against the ground. In passing, Toby gave him a soft pat on the head, and thereafter he immediately stood to trot along at her hip, matching nearly step for step.

"Here we are!" Delilah chirped, turning back to look Merope's way before gesturing to the newly exposed home interior. The cottage seemed just as quaint and homey inside as it was out, the walls sporting soft earthy tones between green and brown, lined with modest furniture that had, for lack of any better term, a certain 'country' charm about it. The whole of the public space was open and visible, too, it seemed, with a small kitchen visible to the left, something of a dining room just beyond it, and where they stood now... Well, it was something like a living room, if the seats and mantled fireplace were anything to go by. "I'm so glad I cleaned yesterday. Please, make yourself comfortable! I'll go find us something to eat, alright?"

"Thank you, Mom," Toby replied softly, but then, after a beat and a 'glance' in Merope's direction (as if she could even see him with her horn closed), added something curious. "Actually-- ... Can I show Merope my room, first?"

"Oh, of course, Honeybee-- I'll call when everything's ready."

"... Alright." And with that, Toby did something else fairly unexpected-- she took Merope by the wrist and gave it a slight pull, gesturing towards the right, where it looked as if a small hallway branched out. "Here. It's this way."

Was it some kind of 'rescue' attempt on the poor boy's behalf?

It seemed abnormal for Toby to be so forward, yet there she was, towing the wayward Merope like a small horned tugboat through the hallway. It wasn't a long walk, by any means, just a few short steps and one quick turn before the girl pushed open one particular, yet completely innocuous looking door. The white floresce scareon beside her kept pace miraculously well the whole time, somehow managing to hover within just a foot of her leg yet never succumb to collision. Clearly, it was very used to the behavior.

The room inside was rather similar to the rest of the living space: simple, clean, and earth toned. There was a nice, comfortable looking bed in the corner, a little nightstand and lamp (one of the older style kerosene varieties, it seemed), a modest desk-and-chair in one corner, some short book shelf, a pair of fluffy pet beds on the floor...

And mantles. A curious amount of them, actually: one long shelf for each of the four walls. The objects displayed on them were quite a strange hodgepodge: glossy stones, fossils, feathers, the rare picture frame. It was like a very organized magpie had taken up residence in the place-- ... except that the magpie was a terribly unimposing unicorn girl instead. She made a point of shutting the door as soon as they stepped foot inside, and promptly released Merope's wrist back to his own custody.

"Feel free to sit anywhere," she said quietly, but hastily, before there was a moment of clear, guilty hesitation.

"I-- ... I'm very sorry-- about my Mother, earlier. You weren't injured, were you?..."

The scareon was already going to make himself comfortable, discretely hopping up to settle at the foot of the bed-- ... which seemed to prompt a second animal to suddenly worm its way out of the covers beneath it, yawning and mewling like the strange golden-brown fish cat it was. A wishing floresce, now?

At least it was harmless.

Toby did not sit. Propriety and good manners dictated that she wouldn't until her guest had settled, and so, as Merope surveyed her space and all of its things, the girl just idled there, her hands behind her back and hooves shuffling ever slightly underneath her. He was difficult to 'see' in comparison to most creatures, the form of him blurring in and out of silhouette like a ghost to her heat-sensitive eye pits, but just the feeling in the air, the sound of his voice, was clear enough. He was already terribly uncomfortable.

Hearing about how he'd been mauled worse than this before didn't help her internal twinges of guilt, but she kept that from showing as best she could. Too bad her voice didn't disguise it half as perfectly.

"Oh." It was all she could really say at first.

The silence was thick and unpleasant for a few seconds following. On the bed, the white scareon seemed to visibly wilt in the depression his master would not show, setting his chin on his paws and sighing woefully despite the joyful pesterings of the smaller wishing floresce.

"If that's what you'd prefer, I-- I'll see if the coast is clear for you, out there. I don't know if my mother is still running the woods right now."

Better to help than to hinder, she told herself quietly. He obviously didn't want to stay here a second longer than he had to, and to try and change his mind would've been a selfish indulgence for no justifiable reason. After all, she enjoyed being by herself! ... Maybe not for weeks or months on end, but in general!

Oh. Oh. Toby wasn't even sure what she'd be hoping for in a response from him, but all the same, she knew this definitely wasn't it. Even if she couldn't see him crumpling down with any amount of clarity, she could hear it far too acutely, and her features tightened in a thin, uncertain frown. Merope was a far cry from the innocent maidens she longed for, but the vulnerability, the need for... for something, someone, felt exactly the same.

She finally budged from her spot near the doorway then, closing the distance between them in just two steps, and then knelt, propping one knee against the ground, in front of him. Compelled by something that was more instinct that willful action, she reached up-- with a certain gingerness (making out his features secretly strained her heat pits)-- took one of his hands and pulled it from his horn, cradling it between her smaller, gloved palms.

It was a strange, almost gentlemanly gesture. Then again, she wasn't that many steps shy of a young gent, herself, in many ways.

"If you don't know what to do..." She spoke slowly, purposefully, quietly, but clearly. "Then stop, and think what brought you here. What is it you were looking for in the woods?"

How oddly phrased and philosophical she suddenly was, and still holding that hand, to boot, waiting patiently for any answer.

Lost. So, he'd lost someone, had he. Briefly Toby wondered just who it could have been, if anyone she possibly knew, but the quiet falsicorn allowed herself no time to dwell. Instead, she simply held that hand of his between her own gloved palms, and for a few lingering moments, said nothing at all. Perhaps she was thinking. It was hard to tell from her nearly unchanged features.

"... So you wanted some place familiar," she said at last, still subdued. Another few seconds passed before she spoke again, and the silence was so oppressive that it even reached the previously gleeful wishing floresce, who was now quietly sulking between its scareon brother's paws. "I don't really know where the ocean is from here, but--"

"Toby! Merope!" a charming but disruptive voice cut in then, starting the girl into silence as she 'looked' over her shoulders towards the door. Something rapped softly on it three times and, without further ado, none other that Delilah peeked in through the door with a faint smile (Toby immediately released her hold), and presented that which she held: a plate, stacked with...

Steak?

Well, it was some sort of meat that looks steak-like, cut into a heap of bite sized slices. Half appeared (... lightly) cooked from the color, and half was clearly raw. "Here we are," the woman mused oh-so-cheerfully, as if completely failing to sense the tension in the room. "I wasn't sure of your preferences, Merope, but I hope it'll be alright."

With that she offered the plate to Toby, who accepted it with a solemn mumble of gratitude as she stood again. "Thank you, Mom... We appreciate it."

"It's no problem," Delilah replied, producing a pair of forks which the smaller female also accepted, passing one on to Merope. "I just thought you two might prefer to eat in here-- you know, not have to make any fuss of proper tables while you catch up on things. Oh, and I'm sorry if I interrupted something! Just try not to make a mess while you're eating, please and thank you!"

And with that, as quickly as she'd come, the woman was gone again, closing the door behind her and trotting off back down the hall.

The air seemed even thicker and stranger than ever-- and now, it smelled like fresh meat. Toby's stomach was terribly conflicted between appetite killing anxiety and the fact that it still reeked of carnivorous appeal. She seemed hesitant to touch anything on the plate, however, and just set it down by Merope, instead. If anything, it was guests first.

"... There's a place I know of," she finally finished. "It's a ways through the forest, but... I can take you there, if you want. There's water. It's... like a pond, or lake. The air there smells like wet moss and soil. It's nice."