It wasn’t simply the Reaper she feared over stepping boundaries – the Basin was full of vicious kinds, including Deimos, surely, but also Ulrik and the ambitious Aviya, among others. If Psyche was around to mention these worries to, she would; it had been too long since the dark ones had gathered to discuss strategies. The actions of her kind must be kept in check. It soured her to know that she could not have as much delightful fun with the hornless, as well, forced to limit herself only to easily explained assaults, but the threat of war and hostility that came with brazenly killing all that stood in there way was a problem that could not be avoided.

It was fair to spread fear through violence, but only if one could easily lie their way out of it. Others were more apt to let go of mild abuse than they were of death. Why, she could not know – as far as she could be concerned, they were bringing the plain and mutated a glorious end to their meaningless lives, a bright symphony of pain and fear to liven their droll existence in one of its most defining moments.

That they were persecuted for freeing their victims from the prison of their lives was a punishment that escaped her; did they not all wish to be a part of a whole world, too?

She watches with mild reverence as the metal pieces fly together into the loose shape of a unicorn, its lifeless frame gleaming in the mountain sunlight like a star of twisted hope. Her delight is girlish and light upon her face, almost ecstatic as she bounds about to the structures front, to admire the empty space of its soon to be blazing eyes.

Listening with a delight she had not felt in many seasons (even while mauling the buckskin on the frozen river), she nods at the appropriate places and finds herself bursting with air that cannot form into words. Wisely, she remains quiet despite her excitement as she looks from the towering beast to its creator, taking note of all that he shared with her so that she might carry the message forth to the other members of the herd.

The thought that might be large enough to cause the ground to tremble beneath them made her skin shiver with anticipation; what fear they would inspire, standing guard over the unicorns!

Her neck arches gracefully and she finds herself smiling quite girlishly in response the complement he has shared with her. Though she doesn’t spend too much time around the deranged crafter, she knows he is a private soul; that he has shared faith in her competence means quite a lot to her (not that it didn’t already, the selfish bitch that she is). Though fleeting, the words stick with her even while he instructs that a mining operation is in order, a task that will seem horrifyingly terrible to her later once she gets over the hot wash of pride that is flooding her at the moment.

So much dust, grime, and filth; she was far too pretty to cover herself in such things.

"Ah, but my thoughts are nothing without your abilities, sir Ulrik! All that is needed to assist in their completion will be done," she says, grinning broadly and still dazzled by the massive unicorn that stands above them both, "I will meet with Crowley as soon as I may and will gather the others to speak of mining.” Pausing, she turns around to sweep her eyes across the myriad caves that she can spy from this location; in her stays here, she had ventured into many of them, and could recall several which had veins of separate color from the stone. Coal, if she thought she knew what it was properly, was black; wood, of course, would also serve the purpose of such things, but the coal would last longer and maintain a higher temperature with more ease.

The others were known to her but for iron, though she assumed it was the simple grey metal that armors were made of; gold was the color of herself, the easiest for her to name. That was in several of the caves near the entrance and many more in the rear, eastern quarter of the land. Copper, a similar color to what adorned the machinist, could be found in just as many.

The other two, coal and iron, seemed to be everywhere. They would be easiest to come by, if measured by bulk rather than accessibility; none of the metals desired would be hard to find in the valley. The gemstones, on the other hand…

Realizing she was trailing away in her thoughts, she returns to the present, sharing another warm smile with the man alongside her. "They will be fearsome, I am sure of it. The Basin will owe you a great debt for such increased safety."

There was a river once,
with many round stones
enchanted by shallow hopes
of embracing the ocean;
water is peculiar this way,
how its life is a line
that cannot bend or change
without the approval of its bed.