Once, the cool air of the North had turned her blood to ice and left her desperate for warmth. Desperate enough to turn to the idiot stallion Valentine, pressing her bodice against his in the most primal desire for shared body heat. It had worked - she had grown warmer - and for a time she had been granted his undying loyalty. She had converted him to racism, or so she had thought. But when the truth came out, when she admitted that she did not care for him, she learned the most brutal truth of all. Stallions, she had concluded then, were all liars. They said all these lovely, pretty things to gain your trust, but if you did not do as they wanted you to, they threw it all back in your face. He had left, or been cast out, she could not truthfully say which, and he had gone somewhere else. She had heard tell that he no longer sought only the company of unicorns. The shade hoped that she would meet him again one day, so that she might tear his throat out.

As it were, he was not in the Basin that day, and the cold did not affect her anymore as it once had. Her pelt had grown thicker, and though it was not shaggy, it hung a bit longer from her bodice, providing a barrier against the arctic winds. It was not particularly cold inside her borders - in fact, the Tallsun weather had made it almost pleasant - but on the outskirts of her land, there was little in the way of protection. Mountains made up the majority of her borders, but the pass that led into the Frostbreath Steppe was a funnel for the chilled winds of the tundra. Snow lingered there still, growing heavier as she ventured forth. Her lands had blossomed into a dim, wintery green - it was summer here, though it was a different summer than they faced in the south.

It made them stronger, living in such conditions. When they attacked in force - and they would, one day - they would be the better for having suffered through such harshness. Frostfall would be the best time for them, used to the cold as they were. The other herds would be scrambling, shivering in the frigid winds; she alone would stand tall, shrieking a battle cry, crushing the enemies that were foolish enough to fight her. Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of voices. Able to, for a moment, listen to the conversation, she was able to place the vocals of Nisa, the polar bear that had accepted the shade's invitation to stay in the Basin. She had a deep respect for the predator, one that she intended to continue showing. A bear could be a valuable ally, and she would need all she could get. "Well, hello, darling," her lyrics rang out as she emerged casually from a clump of trees.

As she looked the newcomer over, she greeted her ally. "Nisa, dearest, it's ever so lovely to see you. I do hope you are well." Ignita was a dark mare, with no particular smell about her to mark her as belonging to a herd. She was a unicorn, with a spiraling, glassy horn. Everything about her spoke of darkness, and the Empress was intrigued. "Ignita, I believe you said?" she verified, then continued. "My name is Psyche the Dark Empress, the Lady of the Aurora Basin. You have my audience, and you may speak freely in front of Nisa. What is your purpose here?" Her vocals were cool, but they were not abrasive or cold as they might have been with an inferior. Instead, it spoke of a patience as she waited to hear the mare out.

"Talk talk talk."