The cold of the Basin in this unnatural night had finally driven Illynx to the brink of going mad, the blackness of the world providing multiple worries to her mind but also a much larger degree of struggle for the mountain herd. The grass, which had grown with ease before around the sources of water at the peak, had begun to dry and wither, it's growth ceased by the lack of light to feed it, and the corporal found her stomach rumbling more and more frequently with no food to please it's eager gnawing; she tried to take as little as she required to sustain life and not starve, knowing that there were those within the boundaries of the herd that could not survive in such difficult times with as little as she could scrape by with, mainly the foals, nursing or expectant mothers, and the elderly. Thankfully for her, the thick coat provided by her naturally frigid home hid the ribs that had begun to peek out from her well crafted sinew, providing Illynx with at least enough of an illusion to appear as if all was well in the land of ice and stone, no matter that it most certainly was not.

She had been jesting with Psyche when she had made the comment of starvation as an end to the eternal darkness, but now she saw the error in making light of something so serious. She knew that the trip out of the mountains would use up some of her precious energy, a thing that must be monitored carefully in a time when it was not so easily replenished, but she also was going stir crazy trapped within the drifts of snow. Regardless, she had battled her way out of the accumulating ice and snow around the mouth of the trail and made her way down the winding, treacherous path to arrive here, in the Threshold.

The path was covered in a fine layer of glistening ice, the frail light provided by the moonless sky and the glowing orbs that adorned the trees along the main path giving fire to the otherwise translucent freeze. Her hooves made little noise as she picked her way along the woodland path, the mare choosing silence on this night (or day, she had lost track of which was what some while ago) over her usual proud and fearless strut, the words she had shared with Psyche resonating within her mind where they had not on her last visit here. She came to a halt in the center of the trail as the sound of hooves drawing near met her ears, the stallion coming into view some moments later, and she met his arrival with a quick appraisal; he was well toned and much younger than Illynx, but much to her pleasure, a long and curved black horn jutted from his brow, matching the hue of his pelt, which was marked with a white circle on the shoulder as well as four white limbs and a stripe upon his face. Had they been any other color than white, she may not have been able to make them out in the dimly lit wood, but thankfully for her the contrast between the ebony world and the stark and pristine markings upon the stallion made them easily notable.

"Hello, stranger," she called out, her voice sweet and gracefully poised upon her tongue, golden gaze twinkling with an inner glow as she watched his bouncy progression down the path, "and welcome to Helovia, if you were not here before today."