As they were summoned, Rhiannon did not wait to make her appearance.

Through the newly reformed Aurora Basin the brindled Weaver walked towards the meeting place, muscles rolling as she sashayed across the land towards where everyone was gathered. Dual-toned oculars searched out the familiar, alluring shape of her coral-coated goddess, but could not spot her, and so the Weaver focused on the forms of Deimos and Ophelia. With a soft breath the mare came to a halt, remaining on her own and away from the majority of the crowds, teeth grinding and head shaking with troubled thoughts.

The voices would not be silent, and without Hotaru around to soothe her inner demons, their rage, desires, and lusts ran rampant within her skull. It was all troublesome and annoying, and soon to give her a terrible headache.

'Be silent, demons,' Rhiannon thought bitterly, scathingly, icy-silver and molten-gold oculars narrowing as she focused not upon the voices in her head, but the familiar vocals of her leaders. Deimos and Ophelia were a powerful alliance, and although Rhiannon didn't know Ophelia very well, nor had she even spoken to the alabaster Forsaken, the brindled mare found no reason to doubt her leading capabilities.

Ears twisted forward and horned head lowered towards the earth, but her eyes remained rooted upon the forms of her Lord and Lady, dual-toned eyes flashing beneath dark lashes. Confutatis was at it again, was she? The saliva in her mouth seemed to intensify at mere thought of sinking her teeth into the 'World Eater's' flesh, of ending her self-proclaimed 'reign'. Didn't that bitch-mare realize that she was but an annoyance before a great empire?

"Fool." Rhiannon muttered, her voice low and directed into the dirt and brush at her hooves. Eyes flicking away from Lord Deimos and Lady Ophelia and focusing upon the brush before her, Rhiannon lifted a hoof and began to grind down the blades of grass beneath the hard rocks, wishing it was the face of the 'World Eater', of Confutatis.

If only they would let her hunt the bitch down... She'd bring Confutatis' head back to her Lord and Lady, and rid the world of the disgrace.

Ophelia the Forsaken, the alabaster apparition, spoke of the Edge and the Throat, and of their 'alliance' between the herds. Bi-colored eyes snapped back up to the ivory Lady as she explained what had happened to the Throat, and the Weaver arched a brow. How very interesting...

"I'll do what I can," Rhiannon spoke up, gold-and-silver eyes locking on the impressive forms of Deimos and Ophelia, "Simply speak and I will serve." There was only so much she could do as a Weaver, but it was her duty, and she was there to serve... But she was also a soldier, a fighter, a warrior who craved blood, and she hoped that her Lord and Lady wouldn't forget.