With no specifics in mind, Lena’s gaze swept from the muddy, haggard mare, to the great depths of the Basin, icy, chilling, and overbearing all at once. A grand valley, bordered by peaks, by summits, by crowns and laurels, by the frosty rime of heartlines and safeguards; but all at once would be an overwhelming experience, and the nymph had no intentions of dragging the newfound Tyra through each and every cranny without a rest and renewal. The first notion sprung into her mind was the hot springs, assuaging, soothing, warm and inviting, a surefire notion to not only wash away the filth collected on the other femme’s tall frame, but also a wonderful way to embrace one of the many avenues of the Aurora’s stronghold, nurtured by its ambience. Gliding further into the depths, into the fathoms, sprite and kitsune bestowed the first delight, provided the genesis of ebullience, swiveling her gaze back towards the argent, wreathed in smiles. “We’ll start with the hot springs then. You can bathe and mend at the same time!” Enamored by this notion, they proceeded deeper, a collection of nymph strides, extended to embody the natural essence of the Basin – beautiful, regal, noble, finessed into the cold caresses of the wind, poised and prosed for valor, for steadfast conviction. Listening to her queries, her questions, for surely she would have many upon arrival to a new place, a new home, a new sanctuary (and apprehensive at best, if her inquiries were remembered from the Threshold), Lena continued the conversation as they roamed toward their breathtaking destination. Is there anyone I shouldn’t talk to or avoid? The sylph mulled over the question, but couldn’t find any names to place (though this could have been from her own blessed faith and devotion into the tied alms of the kingdom). “None that I can recall. Some members are friendly, and others yearn to keep to themselves.” They were a blend of intriguing personalities, all with fathoms, secrets, clandestine, covert hides revealing naught but what they wished to gleam to another; some more open, some more closed. Tyra would learn for herself whom she preferred company with, and who she wished to evade and give a wide berth to. Her song started once more at the query of leaders, Imogen chirping in the background, offering more harmony amongst the mellifluous decibels. “Lord Deimos and Lady Illynx reign over the Basin.”


@[Tyra]