The cordial conversation between the two pretty rulers from opposite ends of the moral perspective floats easily, carried by the golden wench’s drive to instill notions of friendship between herself and those who had once been only her enemies and furthered by the bright kindness that resided within Kahlua. Where Illynx’s smiles are false, without tethers and gleaming in their quickness, the Queen’s are true and pleasant, without a single air of falsification or exaggeration of her welcome – a fact that the Lady takes note of with a blended reaction of both envy and disgust. She wishes, some days, that life had been kinder to her and thus that she could be kinder herself, but she also knows that such niceness often leads to many daggers being stuck in one’s back.

Illynx nods in a show of respect towards the Moon as Kahlua makes comment of it, the woman still feeling within her hard, icy heart some sort of kinship towards the Goddess of her childhood, but also a deep rooted, heavy resentment for having allowed all the misfortune to have come to her in her life. The Edge was supposed to be hers, Psyche’s – but that land had been taken, and another given to them by a God thought long gone and no longer among his brethren; while that was enough of a reason for most to feel sated in how the universe had jilted them, it left Illynx with only a seething desire to reclaim that which had been lost and to keep her talons deep in the snows of the north.

But that was why she was here, was it not?

Her smile does not falter though her heart does, words falling seamlessly in reply as her mind works out the aggravation of recalling a Goddess who had scorned her and her people, traded them for these pacifistic idiots who would bring her no honor – unless the Moon wanted sunshine shooting out of everyone’s ass. "She is a great number of things," her sweetened tones sound, hiding the rest of that thought in her heart, something along the lines of: a betrayer, a temptress, a bloody Goddess of fools.

But, ah, there is another in the distance, speaking to a dark man that Kahlua hails to with the friendliness of good friends, the Lady turning her eyes to spy upon the elegantly maned war stag (for he wore many a scar, his muscles fit and toned) and his bonded dragon, finding that in his company is a pale woman with crimson entwined in her locks.

The Queen turns to ask the golden mare if she will accompany her in her tasks of greeting, to which Illynx responds with a sweet and good natured, “mmm,” for the mare is interesting to her in more ways than one and far more than the equine stallion who accompanied her solemn figure. The pale woman seemed out of place in this collection of faces, which is interesting mostly because such a pretty girl rarely is without a home to go to – a reason Illynx places herself and her other female kin above the males, who seek out only wombs to implant things in. She also, however, wears a horn, which is always a good reason to approach another, especially when paired with the likely chance that she was a vagabond, wandering without a true place to return to – but more interesting than any of these things is the silver dragon that is with her.

She is too lost on the pair of them to notice a familiar, dual horned shape slinking away towards the outskirts of the tent clearing, too caught up in a potential catch to see her newest spy noticing her.

For once, Illynx is not the one opening with proper introductions and cheerful tones, her golden eyes watching the Queen announce herself from the corner of their reach to maintain more focus on the unicorn present. The stallion – Destrier, if she had heard Kahlua’s call right – might as well be an oversized, blackened stump, or a really big black rock for all the care and concern the Lady of the Basin gives him. It’s just as well, really, because he’s singing and probably wouldn’t want to have much of a conversation at the time, anyway – though her ears to hold to him for he sings a strange and beautiful song that she cannot help but give some of her focus.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," the Lady’s voice dapperly expresses, "I am Illynx, one of the two leads of the Aurora Basin." Her smile is light and tinkling as she playfully glances at the pale unicorn mare with sparkles streaking through her eyes, poking fun at the age old hatred between what had been Mirage’s blasphemous coven and the Plague, now wearing away as the Lady set her plans of niceties into motion. "If I am allowed within the delights to be offered, surely you are as well!"

Destrier’s song comes to a close and Kahlua cheerfully praises his performance, the Gilded Blade herself now finally paying him enough notice to nod in agreement to the Queen’s words. "Splendid," she croons with a smile, "I still know some songs of the Edge, myself. Perhaps the favorite of my youth…"

She herself has finally thought up a song she herself would like to sing, genuinely one she had loved as a foal - and so she looks around her briefly to assure no others are about to raise their voices before she clears her throat and begins, her sweet soprano’s voice lifting high and easily into the air in praise of the Moon (who surely would be surprised to hear this voice, above all others, singing out among her children):

" Moon Goddess, brighter than a smile,
I spy you from miles at the fall of day,
Oh, Star Maker, you light taker,
Wherever you're shining, I'm going your way.

Two spirits, lost in the big world;
for there's a lot of world to see.
We're after the same star trail's end, watching 'til daybreak,
my mischevious mistress, the night, and me.

Moon Goddess, brighter than a smile,
I spy you from miles at the fall of day,
Oh, Star Maker, you light taker,
Wherever you're shining, I'm going your way.

Two spirits, lost in the world
for there's a lot of world to see,
We're after the same star trail's end, watching 'til daybreak,
my mischevious mistress, the night, and me."

[ OOC: Set to the tune of Moon River, if you all would like to sing along (the link will take you to youtube, be warnedddd). :3 ]

There was a river once,
with many round stones
enchanted by shallow hopes
of embracing the ocean;
water is peculiar this way,
how its life is a line
that cannot bend or change
without the approval of its bed.