A solemn nod was given to Psyche at her mention of the lack of kin spirits among the horned inhabitants of the Basin, Illynx having learned all to well that while the group at the top of the mountain was surely the most beautiful to observe in all the land, it also was not unified on the front that she herself found most important; the preservation and exaltation of their species, the subsequent extermination or enslavement of all those who did not wear a horn upon their brow. She herself would not mind every dual embellished being was wiped from the earth, either, the beasts wearing both horn and wing frighteningly atrocious in their defiance of the natural order of things. Why else were they each born separately, every species a single image of the three faced Gods who birthed them, if it was not to continue their lines along this path? To blend them seemed almost blasphemous, an attempt to reach the status of a creator, and to the corporal, it was most offensive, no matter her ambiguous feelings pertaining to the divines of her home, and she knew without question that her dearest friend would help her wipe their smut from the earth.

It would take quite some time between just the two of them, she mused, a devious smile playing out upon her lips as she thought of the power that the two women held when they worked in unison; but even her pride could not change the hard, bitter fact that there were simply too many maggots already hatched and crawling across the land for even these two to defeat alone, Illynx too aware that with every turn of her head outside of the comfortable confines of the Basin, a hornless face loomed. "I seek out their hearts as I meet them," she somberly stated, the wicked grin having faded from her lips at the beginning of her words, "but we are few in our thoughts, sister; the very land itself works against us, our three-faced Gods and the surplus of mixed blood herds leading to thoughts of equality; the acceptance of hybrids," she spat the word out as if it was a rather rancid tasting insect that had invaded her mouth while she spoke, continuing with the horrendous image of Osiris embedded within the back of her mind, "the young seem to be malleable enough to convince differently, however the grown and set upon their ways are rather... adamant fools."

Her reply to the Lady's words were of little help, the only insight into the betterment of their cause being that the Basin simply had to start birthing foals in mass quantities to train for their armies, leaving them vulnerable while her females were swollen with foal, almost negating the value of such a theory. The only other options available to her mind at hand were to continue on course as they were now, hoping that with every venture south a new fruit would be born upon their limbs, or to provide a better incentive than bettering your species (one she could not begin to imagine). It was then that Psyche's snort of humorous disdain at the mention of the Assassin's drew the golden marked mare back out of her thoughts, her smile in response to Psyche's words cruel and mocking. "They cannot even successfully earn new members, as the lady the stallion I encountered was attempting to coax out into the ice fields now resides within the Basin," she sneered, inwardly pleased with herself from having sniffed out a band of thieves within moments of meeting Tonka, "thus I do not imagine they could win a war, especially not against the DragonHeart and her kin. Despite their filthy breeding, they are formidable opponents; you and I have learned this the hard way." Her smile softened as she looked proudly upon her friend, finding her decisions in leadership to be exceedingly more pleasing with every passing day. "You were very wise to deny them aid, dearest; we have our own revenge to exact, without the hindrance of those who cannot earn homes for themselves."