After sitting through their conversation for a while the boy allows his mind to wander elsewhere, relying on his bonded's thoughts to keep him up to date with the news but not paying much attention to them, either. The angry bird's matters are not really his to discuss, and he is unable to share his own ideas, anyway. He has tried that a few times before with no success, and now that there are two mistresses here his chances of being reprimanded have multiplied.

The boy crinkles his nose at the thought of being punished for trying to help. Not that Bellona has ever failed to deliver such blows before, but maybe she can't understand that he wants to help her, not bring her down. Can that be the source of the problem that has plagued their bond? Can it be owed to some misunderstanding? Dark eyes swing upwards to catch a glimpse at the bird's face, but she is busy snapping at the black one, "Of course I expected as much. You'd be a fool if you let my duties go unattended." He can tell just by her tone that she is still furious with the horned girl, but the clouds of anger hovering about her mind have parted to let something else through. Can it be some faint gust of approval that is trying to carry the hatred away?


The boy directs a questioning stare onto the other onlooker. Can he see it too? Or is he alone in all of this? Lengthy limbs pick their way through the grass and give a wide berth around the two hybrids before approaching the wolf. A nervous cackle is his only greeting to the cub, and he watches the other with a wary gaze before settling down beside him. There, a hello.

Ignorant to her companion's awkward attempts at friendship, the maiden fans out the feathers across as her back. She has never heard of the girl that Ghost is speaking of, and this annoys her. Of course the black has appointed someone her predecessor has never met; it doesn't make sense to give a complete stranger a position that the peahen has worked so hard for, and of course Ghost has done just that. Briefly the vixen wonders if Midas ever got his say in the matter, but he does not stay on we mind for long.

So he has gone too, and now the hag is all alone. What an opportunity. But just as the hybrid is about to act upon her ambitions a most queer offer falls from the child's dark lips. Her guard is raised immediately. is this some trick? Fiery eyes search the Czarina's steely ones, but the heat in her stare is not enough to melt the walls protecting the truth behind them. As far as she can tell, the black's suggestion is sincere, but that does not precent the maiden from suspecting her of some wicked plot; she has despised her for far too long to trust her now. Triple-toned wings shift uncomfortably as the peahen continues to listen.

A wave of rock and soil tumbles down the path the bird and her boy came from, followed by an unfamiliar screech. A small bundle of lengthy robes and purple flesh lands beneath her feet shortly after that. Taken by surprise, the vibrant woman balks and lifts herself into a rear. As soon as the shock begins to fade and outrage moves back in, however, bright wings snap open and the hybrid sends her legs plummeting earthwards to stomp on her attacker. Striped pillars connect with the grass, missing her intended target, but they are too numb from the blow to pursue him right away, and he has started talking besides.


The bird eyes the impish creature warily, but as with Ghost she listens to him, too. She is too stunned for words to do much else, in truth; whilst following after the little one's movements the Aztec has caught sight of another strange beast, and this one is far more interesting to her than the first. The one in baggy clothes introduces it as Gaoulle, and the mare suspects that she is supposed to be afraid of someone composed of bones, but something tells her there is no need to be. Perhaps what the dwarf-thing is saying about choosing her is true; the skeleton -- which is about the same height as her Czarina -- is staring directly at her.

Gripped by the chilly hand of awe, the Aztec forgets that she is supposed to be confronting Ghost right now. This meeting is far too spectacular for it to be plagued by her childish jealousy of a girl who has taken her crown; she hasn't been chosen by the bones of some ancestral beast. Memories of the flames dance across the Aztec's mind, some of the glowing gifts of said flames drifting across her vision, and suddenly her lack of fear makes sense: she is about to be gifted something great, and in the moments before achieving such a feat the vixen feels unstoppable.

The fallen Chieftess thinks of the people who sacrificed themselves for her as the beast approaches.Yes, yaomicque. I see you. I have not forgotten your gifts, and I will not forget my promises. I will do this for you, Cualneci-oquichtin.
Blazing eyes watch as the skeleton falls and collapses, as the bones sink deep into the Earth where they have risen once before, and as the robed creature offers the skull of the beast to her. The warrior's colorful plumage sways in time with the waves of emotion flowing through her: a deep, echoing sadness to reflect the loss of her people, then a fierce and rampant need to avenge them, until finally she accepts the mask with a calmness and a sort of certainty about her. "Thank you, yoyolitzin." She doesn't care that he is insulting her. He must be hurting from the loss of his people, too, and she knows all too well what that feels like. "His choice is not in vain."

Turning to the specter as soon as the other has vanished, the Aztec searches for her gaze. Curiosity makes the fire of her stare glow a little brighter for a second, but it dims as the seriousness of their situation dawns on her. Her words are no longer harsh when she says, "Midas' absence has left the herd with a gaping hole. We have our differences, Ghost, and we barely know each other, but it is important that you are not alone in this. Even if it is only temporary, I should like to lead the Falls with you while we wait for the Czar's return."

The maiden isn't the type to offer smiles freely -- and she doesn't trust the youth any more than she ever has -- but that doesn't stop her from delivering a gesture of good faith. Calling for Mictla in her thoughts, she directs the boy to free the silver ornament from her tail. His response is swift and compliant, and he offers the amulet to the black with his eyes to the ground. "We found this many moons ago, but I think it may just suit you better than I. I'd like to offer it to you in exchange for helping me with... Gaoulle." The name tastes unfamiliar on her tongue, yet she knows it will not last long. The bones may no longer possess their spirit, but she will honor it nonetheless.