I'll dance in the light of a freezing sun</style>

and sing you the tales of the burning sea</style>

The pleasant smile does not fade in the wake of Illynx's own, but our Angel takes it into consideration, storing it away with the little she knows of this queen and adding to the characterization her shrewd mind is trained to build. If the gilded mare is frustrated she plays a skillful game, hiding behind a world of chill and sweetened smiles. Zuriel listens as the queen questions, and speaks. Standing? she asks, following the girl's expectations, but gives the Seraph no time to clarify what she means.

Illynx chooses to speak of without the herd, her smile now dark as she drawls of missed connections and strained ties. "Of course." she replies, and now her smile shifts too, taking on an edge of I am not stupid. I know these simple things. It's a lie - how on earth would she know anything, having come to this land mere days before? - but a good one, opaque and well seamed, just as every lie the angel speaks. Illynx seems to think this is common knowledge, and Zuriel would never admit to knowing less than anyone else. On a whim, as an experiment, she adds to the confident, tinkling bells: "Shame, that they refuse to submit to those who are clearly superior." She means, of course, horned, and states the thought as though it were the most obvious thing in the world; she suspects the queen to feel supremacist sympathies, and hopefully she will take the bait, confirm that itch.

She goes on, holding out information like a bitch throwing scraps to dogs, the Seraph thinks. Foothills, allies... the absence of conversation is troubling, but she has to wonder- "Have we sent emissaries to reaffirm our ties?" Maybe it's obvious, but maybe it's not - she states it innocently enough, the faint hint of mockery softened by her eyes. If we have heard nothing, perhaps we should find out why? If Illynx has not thought that far, well... the Seraph's esteem was already low.

She considers giving a pseudonym, but laughs the idea away in her mind. "Zuriel," the angel smiles. The Seraphim, heir of Cinnoru and mother of Gods. But Illynx doesn't need to know that, does not need to know how vastly superior the little white angel is to her dark, false queen. She will find out soon enough.

And now it is Zuriel's time to speak, to further her agenda and knowledge and self. "Lady, I must ask- where are the other spies? I have met none yet, nor a figure to direct my questions toward, to report to for instructions. Deimos... Lord Deimos led me here, but he was hardly forthcoming with instruction as to my duties." And now we come to the heart of it all - what is your relationship with my brother? She states her plight with a hint of a laugh, pausing as she re-titles Deimos Lord, as though she forgets that her brother leads, too. Will Illynx defend him, or revel with the angel in her co-leader's shortcomings? Is there trouble in paradise, or is all smooth on the mountain throne?

"Head hunting?" Now, at last, she is taken by surprise, laughing shortly, eyes bright with disbelief. Was there something about her that screamed mercenary, some scar she has missed or a glint in her gaze? "It is not quite my forte," the Angel replies; but now she notes the hungry grin, the way that Illynx caresses the words, and her own eyebrow arches while her smile grows broad. "Though I have been told I am a fast learner, when the need arises." Head hunting. The idea is mildly repulsive, but she's ready to listen, to ingratiate herself with this gold-legged mare and become so important she shan't notice the knife at her back.

[ sorry for the wait <3 ]