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"I'm beginning to think that you aren't even trying anymore, Rynia."

It was a blunt delivery, without the least bit of softening from a mild tone or an accompanying smile. Ladius stood on one side of the clearing, one front hoof resting lightly on a fallen log. From her neatly braided mane to her worn hooves, she was the picture of generally tidyness; neither blood nor dirt nor even sweat shone on her dark coat. Based on her appearance alone, she could have been any respectable mare out for a walk.

However, one only had to glance closer to see the signs of the warrior in the slight mare. The smooth coat lay over a body rigid with muscle, dotted here and there with scars or varying sizes. Even her stance, so casual at first glance, revealed tension upon further inspection; the front leg braced on the log was ready to push off in an instant, sending her flying backwards and out of danger.

And the face...well, that was the scariest thing of all. The jaw was set into a deep scowl, and the eyes, a warm brown color, showed nothing beyond a longstanding coldness. That coldness, accompanied with the equally cold tone of her voice, was all that she needed to show displeasure. She didn't usually leave it at that, though, and today was no exception.

Across the clearing, Rynia struck as dramatic a contrast to her mother as it was possible to reveal. Sweat ran from her brow and her sides heaved with breath that she tried to suppress; blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, as well as from numerous gashes that dotted her body and the joint of one wing. One side of her face was tender, and she didn't doubt it would be swollen before too much longer; these all were tokens of a training session with her mother, a ritual that Rynia adhered to now as always, even though it always ended the same way. Ladius never even seemed to break a sweat, while Rynia crawled away bruised, beaten, bloody, and belittled.

Ladius, as always, was not amused. Nothing mattered except results, and this child never seemed to show any. She fell for the same moves, brought no passion, no discipline; as far as Ladius could tell, she didn't even try but merely submitted to being beaten. Weakness, that was what defined Rynia, and weakness was something that Ladius abhorred. Perhaps that was why she was always so vicious in these training sessions, beating her daughter down until she could barely stand.

Having come to that point, Ladius was sick of dealing with her. Without giving Rynia a chance to answer her earlier statement, Ladius turned away suddenly, her cold voice all but barking at her daughter. "Leave me, Rynia; crawl away to lick your wounds, and we will fight again tomorrow. Perhaps you will surprise me one of these days, and actually provide a challenge."

With that, the mare turned and stalked off into the trees, hunting, no doubt, for something to give her an actual workout.

For her part, Rynia simply stood as she was until the sound of her mother's footfalls had drifted beyond comprehension. Only then did Rynia turn, and only then did she allow a few silent tears to fall. Ladius abhorred tears, and Rynia had learned long ago never to let her mother see them. But once she was alone, they fell in profuse, if silent, streams.

She hurt. She was tired, sore, bleeding, in pain, and tasted blood. Her injured wing joint was sore, but fortunately didn't feel broken; that had happened too many times for her to be unaware of the sensation. Her sister and her unicorn healing abilities had been utilized several times for that very reason, and it would have been very problematic to need her now, when she wasn't around.

But nothing was broken, and nothing severely damaged. She would take this opportunity to rest and recuparate, and tomorrow...

At that thought, Rynia paused then sighed tearfully. Tomorrow would be exactly the same.