A golden light makes the tree's shadows dance across the mossbed ground Tangere pads quietly across. She has wide, hairy feet, cloven and nearly noiseless over the spongy surface. It is damp this morning, it rained last night for a bit before yielding to a clear sky and a bright half moon. The moon is gone now though and only the rosy marigold tints spread light across the twitching treetops and crystal water. She's made her way through the rotunda, slowly and adventurous like, her raven hunting down a carrion smell wafting through the dense woodland between the ruins and the grove. For curiosities sake she goes toward a place she's only been to in passing, only traveling through to get to the other side – she remembers something specific from then, those times she crept through the serene place; she recalls an elaborate garden of water plants guarded by massive black swans. She remembers it because in her admiration of said patch of wild hydro-dwelling plant-life she was set upon by a pair of orange-billed, coal black swans. She swears they were five feet tall (they weren't) and intensely stubborn, and brave, she wondered then if they possessed any sort of magic...they seemed fearless; successfully chasing her off. These were pre-Phrixus days, years ago and now she decides she wants to try her luck for study purposes. Her raven is sure to be able to help her shoo them, or communicate with them, something...right?

A commotion brings her senses out of her daydreams and she focuses on a flash of wide diving down from above the trees. It's Phrixus, speeding dangerously down to swoop in between trees and off in another direction. Directly in his wake came seven or eight (a group, lets say) of smaller, black crows. Pissed.

“We go, then.” His cold, direct voice comes through and she grins comically. This is not the first time he's been chased down for snatching meat that didn't belong to him. If he really wanted to he could probably eat every one of those smaller, weaker birds – or so Tangere would assume, but he hasn't ever done so. Not yet, anyhow. Perhaps he just enjoys the thrill of being chased, because they never catch him, always giving up or tiring before him. He is of a different world.

With a spark of excitement she bounds forward and digs into a long reaching gallop. Phrixus weaves in and out of the trees above her, darting this way and that way and each time he emerges from the thicker pieces of forest he has one or two less followers until finally they are alone again. He calls out in a way only a raven does, flapping gracefully to even himself with her stride along the wide path that cuts through the trees. Mud speckles her pale chest and dirties her ivory legs from the knee down.

Crossing the invisible border is palpable. The land grabs her, slowing her like she's in quicksand, forcing her to sink into an immediate calm. She shakes as if wet, feeling a bit uncomfortable with how obvious the cloak of sedation is – surely it is magic, yes? She asks herself and receives no answer. The raven grounds himself on her shoulders, the air felt a bit heavy to him, and he's a little winded from the chase anyway...he ruffles and keeps his neck feathers raised as he lurches over her withers, looking at the path ahead. The anxiety lifts, however, the deeper she wanders in and she remembers what she came here for. She stops, lifts her head above her shoulder, eyes alert and ears moving about as they normally do. Hm. She hums aloud, clicking her tongue as she scans around, attempting to remember where this secret little water-garden hides...

“Will you?” She cranes her neck back to eye him with one rust-brown eye, smiling with half of her mouth. “Pleeeease.” He receives her message clearly and lifts off without a response. He soars in big, smooth circles, looking down at the water as he cuts silently through the open air. She waits patiently, standing there under a gnarled old tree, the sun and the wind touching her only slightly. The mud starts to dry and crust along her ankles and knees, her tail flicking anxiously as she waits.