Illynx, beckons the fallen doe in the grasses, and kindly the Lady turns her face to the pale Impersonator, her heart writhing in disgust against whoever it is that has done this to her. The mentioning of her name draws another to the surface, one unfamiliar to her ears, but already more hideous than any she has heard before. The Regime, some brigand group, and as the spy verbalizes the physical attributes of their captor, a growling, savage sound breaks from the lips of the golden queen.

"Confutatis," she half barks, half spits; if the Lady had hackles to raise they would be perfectly erect along her spine. Instead, her ears are flat as they have ever been on her head, dark nostrils curved and draconic as her golden eyes darken with a hatred not new to her tongue. "No, Arah, I failed you," she says, dropping her nose closer to the mare and looking at her through her loathing of self and stupid equine bitch, "she’s come rattling bones against the stone before. I gave her not enough heed."

"Forgive me, darling," she asks as the Healer arrives, her dulcet voice drifting over the children first and then serenading the wounds upon Arah. The mare has more information, however, and Illynx drinks in each word eagerly, remembering precisely where this Rotunda is; she and Arah had helped clear a stream there of some small, plague fish. The arrival of the painted stallion draws her eyes away for but a moment, his words reassuring that she is not alone in her lust for blood to repay this dark deed.

Gods help you, Regime.

Confutatis…

She watches Deimos gather the soldier to him, to go inform the rest of the herd of events, nodding a farewell to him to let him know she will be working on other plans of action here and elsewhere; if he needs her, he can send one of their kin to fetch her. For now, she has other things in mind, friends made a season ago who she had been so unkind as to thank as of yet. Perhaps they will be interested in Skull Bitch, too.

And then, an even stranger thought… what would Mirage’s band of peacekeepers think of all this?

"No war, yet," she smiles, sinister and sweet, her golden gaze gleaming with hatred, her favorite cloak, "let’s return them a few heads, first…only heads, of course." Turning her face to Lena, surely worn from her song weaving, she offers a question.

"Will you go with me to the Hidden Falls when you are rested?" she asks, already having a third party member in mind, who she mentions after glancing to all involved, "I believe we will bring Roland along, if you agree to come. It’s time to make this Regime a common enemy, so to speak."