They didn’t have to wait long for a response from the Basin. A piebald hybrid appeared and introduced herself as Weaver. She looked young. Ingrid felt jealousy rise in her chest. Since moving to Helovia, Ingrid had been operating at peak politeness, and here was this mare, not too much older, who apparently had the authority to give them the official herd welcome. She suddenly found herself missing New Rheven, missing being respected like that. Walking on eggshells all the time was getting old, fast. When was the last time she’d sworn aloud? When was the last time she’d walked with her head held high? She longed for the kind of freedom Weaver had.

She was knocked out of her reverie when someone shouldered her in the stomach. Another Basin herd member had arrived, and was shoving his way past them to Sacre. Asshole, Ingrid thought, biting her tongue as newcomer mocked the Moon Doctor. (At least Ingrid assumed that was what he was doing, since she had absolutely no idea what that whole crown thing was about.) How come he got to be a perpetual shitface and she didn’t? It wasn’t fair. A second later though, she was glad she’d remained quiet.

Raeden hadn’t really insulted him, yet suddenly everyone was up in arms.

A third Basiner, whom Ingrid instantly disliked, appeared out of nowhere and spoke to the pushy one, ”My Lord Rykin...” Oh. That explains it. He’s their herd lead. And he can't be much older than Weaver! The third horse seemed to be suggesting that due to one little comment, their request for water should be thrown out altogether. He then addressed the group from the Edge, saying that he hadn’t meant to offend Sacre or the other ladies. First of all, Ingrid was as much a lady as a sabre tooth tiger was a kitty cat, plus the whole premise made her skin crawl. Sorry, we won’t let you build your Goddess a temple because while we’re happy to dish out insults, we couldn't possibly let that tiny comment about our leader stand. Don’t take it personally!

She watched the rest of the exchange through narrowed eyes, even for insulting a herd lead, this seemed like an overreaction. What do they have against Raeden? she wondered. She’d met the mare when she joined the Edge, and while she hadn’t struck Ingrid as a lot of fun, she had been polite and quite helpful. She couldn’t figure out why the Aurora Basin horses seemed to hate her so much. Maybe she and her sparkle-deer were a little vain, but that didn’t merit the remark about her sister, which was fucking savage, mind you.

Eventually though, Sacre seemed to calm everyone down, and Rikyn agreed to take two of those gathered to the Basin’s holy place. This is what she had been waiting for, a chance to learn about the Gods of the other herds. Trying to remember her manners, she quietly moved towards Sacre. “Sir,” she whispered, “Akumi and I are Philosophers. Unless you think others would be better suited, we would both be glad of the opportunity to visit the Time God’s sacred mirror. If they're really going to tell Basin legends for those waiting though, I'm sure remaining here would be equally worthwhile."