When you are ready, I will surrender
Take me and do as you will

The mare's empty stare remained transfixed on the snow laden earth all around her, even as her fellow wraith approached. The only indication that the grulla had heard his soft voice at all was a subtle flicker of an ear, and the quiver of her porcelain lips as her brain took in the words, but refused to process them. Billows of steam rose to join the mists from her quivering nose, and the long fur that coated her body was now beginning to harden and crystallize from the cold. She was numb not from the low temperature of the season, nor from her freezing coat slick with sweat, but from the poison that had managed to spread itself in the latticework of her veins -- her fear of the unknown.

Although she appeared to be as motionless and as empty as a long-forgotten carcass, one stream of thoughts had been successful in its infiltration of her mind: What is this spotted cat doing in my home? And why do I have a visitor? I wasn't expecting any visitors, I--

Suddenly, the world began to start turning again.

Warmth flooded through the ashen architecture of her body like water released from a dam, and after shaking out one creaking limb and then the others, Sulwyn slowly began to regain herself. The chilling breath of Frostfall snatched at her silver tresses as she turned her painted face into the wind, towards her similarly colored comrade, and she had to scream into the rushing sound of the wind, "I'm alright, Xanthos. I lost my bearings, was all!" Her voice is ripped from her mouth almost as soon as the words are said, however, and the little mare vexatiously presses against the dying wind, her elbows dampening from the snow as she plows a path through the wet substance.

"I lost myself for a moment there, Xanthos. I'm sorry if I hadn't appeared to be myself." With the tempest long behind her, the grulla was able to speak in her usual timid tone, her golden eyes averted from his face, analyzing the peculiar mound of... of rock beside them. Her squinting pools are not able to discern much from the structure other than the fact that it is not natural, and as her lips move to question the grullo about its history with the land, an annoyed squaw radiates from someplace overhead.

The frantically flapping form of a seagull -- partially concealed by the tendrils of fog -- comes into view as the mare cranes her neck upwards, and a look of hurt quickly washes over her face at the bird's words. Although she is sorry to have disturbed the poor bird of his peace -- and rather guilty, too -- Sulwyn simply refuses to voice her apologies aloud, not thinking that he deserved to hear them after being so rude.

"We may as well let the bird be. I don't care to be around him any longer." The wraith shifts her weight to prepare to leave, but not before she pulls her gaze away from the squawking seagull does she notice the thick black spot underneath one of its wings. She thinks nothing of it, however, having only met with the living producer of such a substance only once before, and her mind now directing its attention to the pressing matter of navigating the desolate white world once more.

Her thick silver banner sways in the returning breeze and she turns her head back to Xanthos, her eyes landing on the cheetah standing nearby, and softly nickers, "Come, noblemen. Let us get out of this cold."

{OOC: Forgot to mention that the companion in this table is not present with Sulwyn currently. Just love it too much not to use it. <3 Also, Sulwyn probably sounds like the worst wraith ever in this post, but I thought that Xan would see the relation to the black dot better than she would.}

Truth do you hear me?
Don't try to come near me
So tired I sleep through the lie