They came as a tiny unit of one over the northern hills, traveling at a brisk pace to the place of meeting. Late, they were, but Apollo hoped it would make no difference. Through the rays of the daylight sun, the air crisp with the arrival of Orangemoon, Apollo arrived at the Thistle Meadow with members of his family. Phaedra, the enticing winged mare who lead beside him as Chieftess of the Foothills, and Irrydae, who served as their consultant and Storyteller, a 'bridge', if you would, to speak to the almighty Father Earth.

Already honey-brown eyes could see the gathering of other horses, all breeds and certainly creeds meshing around the only one who Apollo's eyes rested upon. The golden form of Midas the Gallant was a beacon of hope for the two-toned stallion, for in him, Apollo had found a friend, mentor, and a brother. An ally, and the Heavens only knew that the Foothills needed more of them.

As they arrived, Apollo eyed the others who stood by, recognizing none but Midas. Each stood with their respective groups and branches, and for a few moments, brief trepidations of fear bled through the Chief's heart. As the Grey, they had fought and bled for any contract that was willing to pay compensation for their efforts... But now, now they were different. No longer were they the Grey, but a unit. A family unit, desperate to hold onto their homeland.

"Midas..." Apollo breathed as he came to a stop, his eyes once more only focusing on the form of the golden Sultan, "Brother. I apologize for our lateness. Times have been... Tumultuous." This was not the place or time to tell Midas of the traitorous encounter experienced by Confutatis and the battle that had nearly de-throned him and stolen his life, but it was a good motivator to compell him to speak and say his piece. Apollo looked to the mighty antlered stag then, offering him a respectful nod of greeting. He did not know him, but would show him respect.

Lifting his head, honey-brown orbs sought out those present with a look of pensive gentleness. It was important that each branch here, no matter their views, knew that Apollo had not come here today to be seen as an enemy. "I am Apollo, a friend to Midas and a brother in blood, and my sisters and I hail from the Foothills..." Trailing off, the stallion dipped his head in both the direction of Irrydae and Phaedra, "This is Phaedra the Opulent, my sister in government, and our dear Storyteller, Irrydae." A deep breath through his nose served as a moment to collect his thoughts, and once more dark lips moved to speak.

"I understand that some of you may look upon us with hearts full of anger and hatred. Perhaps we deserve this for past transgressions, as our goodly Midas has stated... But that is not our intent. We hope to be able to move forward from such dark and unstable times. Phaedra and I served the Grey... She as intelligence, I as a medic, and we can not run from that, but we can try and make up for it. I offer each of you that the Foothills has wronged an apology, and a promise. A promise that things will change. That we have changed."

The stallion grew silent then, waiting, listening as Midas spoke of the true threat; the Basin. An ear tipped backwards as a sour taste filled Apollo's throat. The Basin... He had been left alone to reap the dust and collect the hatred from that fateful contract, the contract that would place he and his family as an enemy to those of Helovia. Midas had forgiven him... But would anyone else find it in their hearts to do so?

"Aye," Apollo breathed softly, glancing back to Phaedra and Irrydae before re-directing his gaze forward, "Midas and I have shared words of forming such intimate ties of kinship already... But I would be honored if such ties could be spread between the World's Edge and the Asylum, as well."

[ooc: I'm... So, SO sorry for the wait, guys. I really had no intention on this taking so long to get to, but things have been hectic as of late. <3]