She enjoyed the sharp blue gaze of the animal, admiring his own unique appearance as he did the same of her; his coat was thick and plush, and she assumed from the density of the pelt that the cold would do little to phase the cat. Unicorns could all adjust to chilly climates, as she supposed the equines and pegasi might, as well, but not all wild animals could make their home in the snow.

Her own golden streaked coat was thick for the oncoming bitterness of Frostfall, still held captive by the brilliant tones of the season of dying leaves. It was this coat that kept her contained to the cooler climates until such wintery breath broke over the land, allowing her to venture further into the south without the repercussions of sweating every step of the way.

The big cat asks her for a description of her home, and he is greeted with a bright and cheerful smile as she turns to one of her favorite subjects: "The Aurora Basin," she begins, tilting her head so that her long and golden horn points directly through the scantly leaved trees towards the mountains in which it is hidden, "to the north. It is a hidden valley located in the Frostbreath Steppe, the mountain range you can see from here; well defensible, only one path in or out, unless you can fly." That she feels distaste for this word is evident only in the way it is bitterly spat among the sugar coated harmony of the rest of her words; she has become more couth about discussing her rancorous desires in front of strangers, over time.

It surprises me, too.

"We’re mostly unicorns, but for a centaur, and the companions of the others who live there, and so flight is usually not the route we take," her smile is cheeky and humorous on her face as she takes a few steps closer to the tiger now that conversation has been fully opened, "and the valley itself is beautiful. This season, Orangemoon, is the best in which to see the lights for which it was named, so long as the rain stays away. The natural shape of it also keeps the vale warm and comfortable, despite its northern location. Then there are always the hot springs…"

Realizing she has been rambling endlessly, she smiles most coyly, her eyes narrowed in false apology for her over use of her own voice. Honestly, she can’t care any less whether he wants her to shut up or not – she could carry on for days with only a tree for company. But she also knows that it is not the best way to earn one’s allegiance, and so she deftly redirects the conversation.

"I am sorry. My love for the mountain knows no boundaries, I could talk endlessly of it to you. I am the Lady Illynx, lead mare of the Basin." Her title isn’t as flashy as she makes it sound, most of all to her – she’s become rather weary of the responsibility and endless drama that has come with her new power. But… she can’t say she’ll ever grow tired of the ability to command others to her will, or the mountain which she has risen to protect; even with all of her selfish faults, Illynx is growing into her position with ease, and while she may curse the rights given to her by Psyche, she will be loathe to forfeit them.

She’s a rather complicated creature, our Lady of the Basin. But… most women are this way, anyway, she consoles herself.

Illynx