The golden boy may not have noticed her, but the cruel bird had been silently following him. Her loud colors are quick to give her away when stealth is needed, and the beauty has quickly learned that a light tread and a dark path are key when stalking her prey. And that's not even mentioning a lack of snide comments. A blue lip twitches as if itching to snap back at that. Save your words. They are better used elsewhere.

The maiden soon discovers that there is no better time to use her sharp tongue than now, and sapphire audits snap backwards at the sight of the horned intruders. She has only ever encountered outcasts and her fellow members, and so anyone she doesn't know instantly becomes a threat. Orange eyes gleam from the prospect of running the damsels off. These are her lands, after all.

An explosion of fire lights up the area just as the spy reaches Midas. A shocked stare follows after the phoenix, watching as it burns the leaves that are scattered here, save one. Almost as soon as the light show is over a screaming match begins, and the Aztec snaps her crown in the child's direction. Her face forms a sneer as the filly barks out hateful remarks to the painted man beside her.

"All I see are ashes, child. There are no invitations here." The vixen's words are soft, but edged with vehemence; they seek to drive their cruel intentions home with a subtle hint of mockery. The little one may have worked hard on constructing such ugly things, but all of her efforts are easily incinerated in the end.

What a thoughtful lesson for the Czar to teach. Best not let the girl's hopes grow too high before they ultimately come crashing back down. She turns her blue skull towards the one remaining leaf, trying to decipher its meaning. Apparently the filly and her friends are no artists, for the bird can make no sense of their message. Or perhaps she is just being nasty. Her curiosity demands to be satisfied regardless. A fiery pool turns to a golden one for guidance.

An invitation? To a party? Or to a much bloodier fate?

A surreal being materializes in answer to her question. The bird reels back in surprise, rolling her eyes and tossing her head in response to the brute's sudden appearance. When dark hooves reclaim the Earth once more, the hybrid watches the heavy stag in awe. His shorter stature and crooked horn are not nearly as impressive as his magic, and as soon as he speaks the beauty knows she has found a God worthy of her devotion. A thick fog of envy rolls over the peahen as she witnesses Midas receive his punishment. Maybe one day she will able to showcase her defiance, too.

The grey God dispels the ugly cloud that threatens to suffocate her with his mention of a party. Green and blue hair goes flying when the Chieftess tosses her head in frustration. What the hell is this gathering that they're all talking about? And why is the time-rewinder getting all riled up from a few burnt drawings? There is no time to ask the deity for enlightment, for a blast of light forces her to turn away and, when she looks back, he is gone. A chocolate weapon lashes out at the ground. Is this going to be a damn pattern? Do they ever stay when we need them to? Apparently not. But mortals do.



"Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in."