Delicately, each golden limb moved in perfect flow and sequence, disturbing the brittle leaves that covered the path with only the slightest rising of noise. She wanted to rebuild, and thus she would spend the next several weeks journeying to and from the high splendor of the Basin to the wilds that currently housed her future army. Many problems pressed in on her from all angles; their failures, the stolen members of her home, the fact that since the battles had been waged, she had seen neither hide nor hair of her dearest Psyche. Most of her problems could be resolved through gathering new units, but as to the issue of her missing and only friend, she had no answers, only worries. The black mare remained in the back of her mind through each passing day without her, adding more purpose to her journeys to the south than just recruiting; it was a peace of mind she sought. One could not fret over missing loves when travelling, at least not so much as she worried while sitting at home twiddling her proverbial thumbs, and she found that even the song of the birds trilling above were enough to keep her from slipping into the state of dismal pondering that she had been stuck in since limping home from the Edge.

The laughter of a creek met her ears, blending joyously with the sounds of birds and the hushed sway of branches, the lithe mynx slipping nearer the source of the water to refresh her dry throat. As the glimmering water arrived in her vision, so did a noise tickle her eager ears; a voice. She paused, turning her finely crafted features towards the source of the sound, intrigued by it's feminine tones and the possibility that the speaker wore a horn upon her crown. Disregarding her thirst for the moment, the woman set off along the water to the right, her steps more purposeful and less silent than they had been before.

She rounded a bend and slipped around a large boulder embedded in the creek bed, golden gaze finding, to her delight, that the one who had spoken was indeed a unicorn; her red horns gleamed in the light that streamed through the slits in the leaves, a glorious assemblage of death that made the golden backed mare nearly giggle with happiness at how simply beautiful the set of swords were. The femme's sleek, ivory pelt was a fine touch, and as the Lady drew nearer, she found that the woman's eyes matched her most precious attachments, filling the elitist bitch with a surge of enthusiasm that lit up her very feminine features with a glowing happiness. "Salutations, traveler!" she called out across the fifteen or so feet still separating them, increasing her pace to a lazy and bouncy trot until reaching three or four feet from the mare, coming to a regal halt, her tiara angled high upon a gracefully curving neck.

"I am the Lady Illynx, hailing from the northern Aurora Basin," she began, her smile friendly and welcoming as a naive child's, a tactic she had found to be rather useful in the past and frequently returned to, "and might I just say, my dear, that you wear such a glorious crown!"