Illynx and Rikyn were practicing the most useful skills one could know when a call for her rises from the entrance of the Basin. Rikyn pauses from his forward dive, top falling to the earth with the faintest of noises as he stands with dark ears forward and golden eyes searching; his mother, in mid-parry for his quarter rear assault, moves instead in a full circle of her chocolate frame that leaves dark hair twirling all about her and the air dislodged and rippling in the heat of the afternoon. His horn, as of now, is short and unable to hurt her too badly, as good a time as any, she figures, to start training him to use it.

When it comes time to pass him off to Deodat or Torleik for deeper training, he’ll be ready; she’d like to see the General’s smirk then, when her son arrives to him already prepared to learn the advanced lessons he has to offer. It makes her smile, as she glances over towards her dark skinned boy and moves to the voice that has called her name, hearing him take up pace behind her with his long, gangling limbs keeping up to her own even and graceful strides.

She recognizes the figure as soon as she’s in eyeshot, her lips curving all the more on her pretty face as she increases her step to a trot to close the distance between herself and the Queen of the Edge before her herd takes note of who is at their borders. She wonders where the entourage is, seeking the ground behind her for more guests, and finding only River Walker, her brow rises dubiously and she inwardly laughs. This girl, unworthy of being called a woman as far as Illynx was concerned, was more daft than even she had ever thought her to be; she probably hadn’t even bothered letting anyone know she was out on her own, either.

Old temptations itch and burn within her as the feet slip away from between them, her tongue salivates with the imagined taste of her blood and her golden eyes sparkle and gleam with all the glamour of flesh eating wild cat, but she knows better. It had been a long walk of good purpose that had brought her to the place she had been born, where dragon’s had once ruled and now Kahlua alongside her golden King. It meant more to be welcoming than to rip her throat out for once, and it makes the Lady almost pout to herself as she halts before the painted queen, her golden embellished son stopping alongside her with his eyes trained on the bare space between the Sunshower’s eyes.

She smiles after catching the sight in the corner of her own gold toned gaze; he has never seen one like her, and he feels the same way Illynx does when she looks upon her crownless face, judging by Rikyn’s subtle frown and the way his brows press in on his normally inquisitive eyes; least noticeable of all his changes are the lines that find their way around the circumference of his nostrils, the dark skin wrinkling as he takes in her smell.

He looks to his mother, even before she can speak. He wants her to take all his confusion away, and she will probably only deepen it before the words are done between the two women in charge of the herds who had always hated each other, a dark dislike growing and festering until she, the Gilded Blade, had crafted a truce on her own whims. No. Kahlua was welcome here, even if she’d left her brain and useful parts behind in whatever rut in the ground she’d been born in.

"Why, Kahlua," she simpers in her sweet sugary tones upon arrival, inflection added to the name crossing her lips for it bares no formal titles either, titles that Illynx feels she deserved from someone who was not her friend and but a mere rung on the ladder that led her to grasp at the stars (and she figures Kahlua will only take it as meanness, no further insight given to the cleverness of her Golden tongue), "what a lovely surprise."

She curves her supple and elegant neck about to look down at her son, motioning towards the idiot in the black and white with her horn. "This is Queen Kahlua, the Sunshower, benevolent ruler of the World’s Edge. You remember passing it on our walks, hm?" He nods, eyes narrowing further as he continues to stare at the gap between her eyes, little brain wracking itself as he can find no dual set of horns behind her ears, either! It seems they are no where.

It is quite distressing.

Illynx laughs, turning her focus back towards the some what familiar figure before her, again wondering why she’s alone until she remembers that they are supposed to be allies again. It’s going to take some getting used to, her mornings and afternoons being perforated by the presence of those she’d spent most of her life avoiding as if they’d explode in her proximity. "He is Rikyn. He has never seen one… such as you so close."

Hornless, fool, rodent, land bound filth, idiot, mutant, slave. She had many names, none of which suited this feigned friendliness.

All of which were hidden behind that overly friendly and sparkling smile.

As if Kahlua could forget what she’d seen the time the golden wench had let the mask strings loose, the porcelain prettiness she wore smashing into nothingness against the ice; as if it had never fallen. As if she never wore it at all.