She watches for a reaction to the sad, for hints of comrade lost and the first, painful lines of an empty hole in ones heart to bleed into the exterior – for they always do, at some point. She doesn’t she much of a show of the hurt that touches her, for which Illynx feels another sweeping measure of respect swell in her chest and a deeper rise to her worries that this woman is dangerous and must be watched. Such is the mind of the golden Lady, one that reaches out for the shining weapons that dance within her grasp but is always aware of their edges, the hidden power that might lie hidden beneath their gleaming exteriors; this dagger is bedazzling, as so many she has gleaned with her covetous gaze, and while she seems less dangerous than some (pale Zuriel, with her many horns and prying words, the golden stranger known as Thranduil with his guises and tempting elusions), she will still take hold of it with as much reservation as she does the rest of them.

No woman such as she lives long without giving each of her puppets a long, laborious look before she purchases them and sends them out in her more nefarious and worth while tasks. There were small deeds to be done by each that would prove their value to her, revealing in the process the depth of their loyalty to the golden bitch with her smiles and masquerades. In such cases as Thranduil, she fears she will never truly hold him, so deeply involved in his life of lies and secrecy that he cannot trust anyone else, puts no faith behind any blades but his own – and she cannot blame him, for she is the same way. But this one, this rose toned mare with her eyes trained on the game being played at her hooves, seems less hardened by the life she has led until now, still available to her own soul and its needs in ways that both Illynx and the golden spy were not.

Her smile takes the Lady in its vigor, a fleeting wonder crossing her mind as to what she is thinking of that makes her smirk so deviously; but Illynx cannot read the thoughts that sway through the head of her pretty new herd mate and she is left only with the words which proceed the delightful arc of her grin.

The golden woman laughs in response, rather enjoying the blunt way it is stated even in front of the man she’s bedded. Her brow almost arches upward in a realization that maybe there is not much of a romance between these two, after all – a curious wonder, one that she will think over and watch for in the times to come. ”I look often myself,” she jests, having once eyed the man alongside Hotaru with a hint of lust as they waited for the rain to cease in an elegant cavern of ice, discussing matters of the soul and childish notions that weaved in the Lady’s strange mind, ”if the consequences for touching were not so steep…” Her eyes trail to the width of the belly on the woman, a capricious wink flickering her right eye shut as another stream of good natured laughter ripples from her.

She herself has dropped a foal recently, knowing the struggles that come with pregnancy – but also knowing the much more difficult task of raising an inquisitive, innocent and stupid living being. Rikyn has learned much in his life already, she has seen to this, but it was not without sacrifice on her behalf; she has rarely left the mountain and her knowledge of the world outside of it suffers, and her schemes had been set to the side in order to nurture his growing mind. Had she known it was so arduous she may have waited a year or two more before seducing the Engineer – but at the same time, she had to inwardly admit that there was great pleasure to be had watching her son find answers to his teeming sea of questions, to observe the proud grace of his father as he watched from his reserved distance. ”Rikyn, my son, will be pleased to have another playmate,” she explains within seconds of her joke, wanting to assure Hotaru knows it is not a personal jibe at her current condition that draws laughter to her unkind lips, ”he was born earlier this season and is most likely terrorizing the civilians with his endless inquiries at this moment.” Her smile is the loving, gentle one of a mother as she speaks of the boy, even when the words are not the kindest of things to say; she understands his thirst, truly, for she still yearns to know more of the world and its workings, to learn all she might of the political facets and Godly events that moved the creatures of Helovia.

She had even left, once, to see the world beyond where she had been born, to venture the broad wilderness that stretched between kingdoms.

The smile that takes the mare at the mention of her first quest is thrilling, the Gilded Blade matching it in the vigor of her own. Her next question softens the predatory grin on the mouth of the Lady, her own head inclining an agreement to the statement hidden in an inquiry. ”Welcome always has such a lovely ring to it, does it not?” she beams, glancing over her shoulder at the realm beyond and gesturing that Hotaru and Deodat should follow her, her golden limbs flashing in the sunlight as she passes through the narrow stone way that would reveal the valley and all its splendors.