Soothing, the gentle way with which her friend deals with her dramatics, as it has always been. It nearly brings another tirade of tears flowing from her features, but she bites down hard on her tongue and hides the emotions under the sweet taste of her own blood. She stands shaking and drained, a hollow appearing for the first time beneath her passionate emotions that ebb and flow through her as if they are a physical ailment. She wishes that her heart will stop breaking, for this ache of loneliness to cease, and while she feels the faintest glimmer of it’s fading back as Psyche explains her own emotional turmoil to her, it is still oppressive and nagging, threatening all the while to send her back into a frenzy of hateful words and misplaced aggression.

So sharp the dagger that pierced her as the question hung heavy on the air – “Do you not see the hollowness of their allegiance?”

Such a clear definition of the paranoia that had begun to anchor itself into her heart, the fear that she was to fail no matter how hard she struggled to prove her usefulness to them, and she could find no words immediately to reply to her friend other than to shamefully hang her head, several glistening tears leaking dismally down her already damp features as she stared at her golden limbs, the scars littering their length.

The sound of hooves drawing closer rises her eyes back to the amber depths of her love, the compassion that gleamed in their depths astounding to the woman who, despite all that the pair had done for one another, still doubted that Psyche truly cared for her. Until this moment, it was never clear to Illynx that the love and loyalty she felt to the mare with the trinkets in her mane was anything other than one sided and selfish on her behalf.

"I could never kill you," she chokes out through the phlegm that has accumulated in her nasal passages and down her throat, her golden eyes so very sad and entirely revealing of what she felt inside of herself, for just once in her life. Her weakness shrouded her like a silver veil, and she gave not a single damn that others might see her this way. Her armor has been dismantled for none other than the woman in front of her, a final showing of her faith in their companionship, a gleaming omen of her love.

"I want to kill the rest of them for doing what they have done to you," meekly sounds her reasoning for her behavior, the fear of the truth in what Psyche had said burning behind the immediate glow of empathy she felt for the fallen Empress, "the mountain is an empty place without you. Perhaps it is more than just your absence. Perhaps it is the truth behind what has come to pass since that makes life seem so void and useless – that they do not love any but themselves." She pauses, swallows the truth now that it is out on the air.

She finds that she still resents the mare before her for talking of herself like she is nothing at all to be concerned over. The metallic flash grates its way back into her features as she hones her eyes in on her dearest friend, feeling the swelling of her lids but attempting to maintain ferocity despite her dismal appearance. "That does not make you any less of a queen. It makes them worth less than those we wish to rid the earth of," she smiles grimly, the wolfish aspects of the expression haunting in the hazy light of the grove, "You lost it during the battle of the Throat?" She asks as her eyes run up to the small stub of horn that remains on Psyche’s head, that strange smile still lingering on her features, having pieced it all together while attempting to regain her breath. "Would you have been there if not to defend them, their honor? I do not think so. You should be proud of what you have achieved – let the rest be ashamed for chasing so fine a creature from our ranks. I defended you," she says, letting the honestly spew forth from her pores, "I defended you even when none would rise to echo my words. To see you place yourself among the mud and insects makes my heart sour at the thought that I wasted so much breath to defend a woman who so quickly discards her pride."

Her nose angles back towards her side, the gruesome reminder of the deep hatred that had begun to grow in her veins for all the impudent and idiotic filth that were squandering her perfect mental image of the Aurora Basin. "Deimos has shown me what love he has for you. A training spar, none the less," she spat down at the earth, rancor finding it’s place among her quickly changing expressions, "but I view it as fear that my words are true, that he is a pretty statue wearing a handsome crown. What in Time’s ass were you thinking when you gave that moron your position, sister? All he’s managed to do is murder openly and assault those he lives with for no reason other than to compound his own self worth. You were never so selfish in your leadership, you gave so much weight to the consequences your actions would have on those around you."

A sigh slips from her, eyes finding her hooves again. "He cannot think of anyone but himself, and that is quite immense an observation coming from one such as myself. It will be the end of us, if he cannot even learn to resolve his issues with herd members in ways other than abuse of his magic."