Using the wide span of her dark wings to help balance herself, the pegasus perches daintily on a little jutting of rock, which protrudes from the mountainside just above the heads of those settled in the valley. Her golden hooves are close together and her slender muscles are taught in an effort to keep her steady, but nevertheless, the cat-like mare stands with an ease that belies her rocky location. With beady eyes that are only slightly narrowed, she watches as the members of the Aurora Basin trickle in to head their Lady’s call. Much to her pleasure, she is one of the first to arrive to the meeting, and so it is not hard for her flinty gaze to rake over each of them.

Almost immediately she recognizes the antlered beast, and with a twitch of her smoky lips, Imogen wonders if the draft mare will become a problem. After all, she had not parted with Vertigo in the most cordial of ways—after having encouraged a fair amount of alcohol into her system, and then luring her apple-addled body into the lonely shadows to be abandoned, Imogen suspects that Vertigo would not be keen to meet with her again. She suppresses a dramatic sigh, glaring for the shadow of a second before she shifts her attention elsewhere, while already the back of her mind works like the conniving gears of a clock.

More come, but the huntress doesn’t identify any of their faces. With a cold and hateful twist in her gut, she realizes that she is the only pegasus within this herd. There are a few others—a scant few—who have wings, but this mountain land is noticeably dominated by those bastards with horns. She had heard as such when she had first wandered to Helovia, but to see it before her now, she feels a fire in her belly ignite with a righteous contempt.

(Why come to join them, then?)

As with every one of her actions, there is a purpose to this choice. For now, however, she draws little attention to herself, except to stand over the rest of them. When the promotions are announced, the iciness of her eyes settles upon the one whom she is to work with—Rikyn, a unicorn brute she has yet heard nothing of—and regards him with a cool neutrality. She intends to pick him apart, piece by piece, and leave him exposed to the cruelty of her own whims. Patience, she reminds herself, breathing in deeply through her nose as her dark eye wanders across the others of the crowd. Wordlessly she listens—the rest of the promotions, their herd’s quest—while the clockwork of her mind turns.

notes; Doesn't interact with anyone, but mentions @Vertigo and @Rikyn <3
“Speech.”

If the high was worth the pain