Through the swirling white, she saw a figure approach, a shadowy shape too small to be Rikyn's father or Deimos. She almost exhaled a sigh of relief. First, someone showed up. This wasn't a ghost land full of the dead. Second, the one who approached was not one of the few stallion who legitimately gave her the creeps. Aithniel waited calmly, not willing to show her uncertainty, even if she felt the quiver in her very bones.

Zerachiel was tucked carefully in the crook of her wing, guarded by the golden and black strands of her thickening mane, and he was still so small that he was mostly hidden by her body. This stranger seemed to have his own petting zoo at his side with more than one deer showing up as well, and she narrowed her eyes curiously. That was weird, right? Having more than one companion? She couldn't imagine sharing her mind with another besides Zera, but maybe she just didn't have enough of her heart left to give.

He wore a bloodied and dirty drape over his black form and white form, and he had one of the longest tails she had ever seen. She did not think he was particularly handsome - not in that tall, gallant and brutish way. He was more refined than that, and he was polite, and that was something the Basin had been lacking, in her humble opinion. Without hesitation, she nodded, remembering that she not only represented herself but also the Dragon's Throat. She was a warrior and needed to act like one.

"Yeah, hey, I am looking for Ri-," she began but quickly shut up, watching Erebos' princely figure make his way to where she stood. Relief and longing flooded her system without her permission, and she cursed her emotions. She wanted to be calm and impassive, strong in her independence, but she was glad to see him now. He even ran to her, as if she would float away or the earth would fall beneath their feet, the chasm physically greater than any emotional ache she caused.

She took a few hesitant steps forward, unsure if her excitement would be met with reprimand and not willing to be chastised like a child, not when she stood here with new curves and her final height (short). He stopped, breathlessness adding urgency to his caring questions, asking if she was okay, and Aithniel stared up at him, dumbfounded. She had thought he would stop caring, that he would emerge from the ice just as cold as his surroundings, all prince and no play.

But he continued to surprise...

"Erebos," she murmured, his name holding more emotion in her tone than she intended to deliver. "Yeah, yeah, I am fine just..." she paused, glancing at this Ashamin briefly before deciding that she didn't mind if he overheard. "I came to apologize, to you and Rikyn. Have you seen him?"

She then looked to Ashamin. "My name is Aithniel. I used to live here."