"What if they don't come?" Phaedra mumbled under panted breaths, as her wings beat heavily at her sides. The rain was making flying a miserable task, but she was still significantly faster in the air. Her body was built for speed and flight;' regardless, the ground would be sloppy and muddy.

Try Was Stella's response - her own orangey-yellow face displaying the signs of worry that Phaedra was trying to keep at bay.

She had heard that blackened bitches call, just as surely as Apollo had. It made her stomach crawl. She had invited Confutatis into their home, remembering how Ophelia had done the same for her in seasons long past; Now their home was trying to be taken. Her golden ears flattened against her skull as she glided, her body angling towards one of the larger hills, near the clearing where Confutatis now waited. "But what if they don't?" Pheadra again repeated to her companion. Her body glistened like a falling star as her altitude decreased until finally, her golden form landed upon the hill. Waves of creamy mane were now matted against her neck and chest, and silently she cursed this weather.

Try! Stella thought again, with a trill of encouragement.

Phaedra nodded decisively. She wasn't sure if it was some power that herd leads seem to have - but when they called, did others not come running? Regardless of their position in the lands? Well. She was their Cheiftess now, and this was a call they needed to hear. If Apollo fell to the hooves of this dark stranger, she would be met by Phaedra and the rest of the herd. She would have to topple more than one leader, to take this herd away from them. And if Apollo sent her packing...Well - A smile appeared on her pink lips, as her flirtatious twinkle a'lit her eyes - He would deserve a hero's welcome.

"FOOTHILLS" Her voice rang out amidst the rain. Even amplified, it carried a certain amount of seductive overtones. They would know it was her - but would they come? "NOW" She added for emphasis; her voice breaking slightly with worry as she was suddenly filled with loathing and fury. Swiveling upon her hooves, she faced down below, where Confutatis continued to stand, a threat within their lands, protected now, by custom.

Only Apollo could meet her challenge. But after that? Well, - magic bloomed around Phaedra's body, causing the star-sheen of her coat to intensify. She was like a glittering beacon, a star for her herd to find her, and hopefully a comfort to Apollo below.