She laughs lightly when Agrona slips and curses, not in a mocking sort of way; it is more the sound of one who once did the same thing dozens of times before learning precisely how to follow the bending back of the trails home. How many others has she brought here in her years? Surely not as many as some, but more than most, or so she likes to think; every face she remembers from the Threshold is dear to her, almost as if they were some sort of odd, abnormally born children to her, and as she casts her golden eyes back to watch the progression of the white haired Sparrow Chaser she cannot help but smile fondly as she quietly paints the image into her memory right above her strange but pretty name.

The only one she had ever been more excited about revealing the vale to had been Jorogumo, all those seasons ago, and that was probably only because it had been a child; Illynx had been robbed of much of her youth by fate’s cruel fingers, but what she had been gifted had remained in the front of her memories, perhaps mostly because she understood how malleable a young mind was, but also because there was something purely magical about being uncorrupted by age, as if the years were poison slowly sipped on until it finally stilled ones heart.

She might try, one day, to overcome her vulnerability to the callous embrace of age, but for now, it was enough to live in the moment, the soft light trailing down on their backs from above as she observes the changes flicker across the dark skinned one’s face as she realizes who she’s been walking with all this time.

The first comment to peer its voice from her awe draws a supple stream of laughter from the lips of the golden Lady, who had never quite thought of it that way. As she was concerned, it was a name she had chosen for herself, one placed on the lips of others by her whims to have it be so. "Perhaps it is so, though I never pondered it. It is a name I have quietly called myself for many years," her head tilts ever so slightly left, dark hair slipping across her burning, liquid metal gaze, ”though it seems more remember it now than before."

All the while she speaks, Agrona searches her figure, the Lady pleased when the stare invokes language rather than terse silence, the mostly strange mare smiling in good humor that she had been so fooled. Her next row of comments evokes another rippling array of laughter, the platinum plates flashing in the jiggling of her sides beneath the high sun.

"Why, dearest Jester, it seems your face has fallen off!" she giggles uproariously, arcing her own neck in good humor and accepting the closeness of the other woman but turning back towards the open valley just ahead of them. A tender snort escapes her nostrils as she trots forward a few bouncy paces and then resumes her steady, graceful walk, smile still lingering on her mask as she crosses between the great bronze and his blooming brother.

"Don’t fear him. He’s quite harmless unless I ask him not to be," she mentions of the sentinel, letting her body trail closely to his side in such a way that the dark strands of her tail sing out along his metal body. Pausing several yards past the statues, she again stops and turns back around, looking at her newest escort with interest as to what she thinks of the Basin now that she can fully see it and the sharp winds of the passes have left their bodies to regain whatever warm they might have lost.

@[Agrona]