Ulrik was much as Deimos; they could only see the Lady Psyche for what she had been to her people, not who she was to those who followed her despite her occasional falterings. To Illynx, the Dark Empress was a lone light gleaming in the night, a beacon that shone brightly and had pulled her from a darkness so desolate that she had been near ending her own life, a scant and miserly young woman who had pushed all of those around her away, either through her own violent actions or their refusal to accept the girl for who she was. Hateful, bitter, full of remorse for a life that had been lost by no fault of her own, she and the black wraith had not immediately become as tight knit as they were destined to be; but she had still saved Illynx from herself, providing a kindred spirit in a house of overly accepting fools. For that, she would follow the Empress to an early grave, if only to prove to her that she had not forgotten the claws that had pried her from her turbulent and frigid ocean of self pity.

How might they love me if the cannot not love Psyche? she inwardly mourned, for she has always been stronger than I am.

Her gaze found the Engineer a midst the others, a deranged colossus that she had once shared a moment of unusual and valid friendliness with. The jagged wound on his leg drew some concern to her features, what little empathy she possessed beckoning her to assist him as he had her during the night of no end, but so strong was her apathy that she could not be bothered to muster more than a scant smile as she met his devious bronze gaze with her own. Fleeting, the expression withered as he admitted to his guilt, the blood smeared all across his hooves.

Staring quite blankly and mildly in disbelief at the boldness of his confession, her anger sobered in the truth that had been shared and was replaced with the first flickering sensations of embarrassment over having shown her ass so quickly. Unlike the Lord Deimos, Ulrik did not fill her with anxiety and distrust; rather, he intrigued her with his wild demeanor, his equally untamed gaze that hinted at not all being right beneath that handsome and muscular surface, a glimmer that she herself could relate to in comparison to the cold aura that emanated from the black devil who stood alongside her. Still, she wondered why it might be that it was not him who had called the herd to this place that dripped in nostalgic memories of her friend - but she did not wonder long.

It was logical, truly. A man who could become so distraught over a temporary lapse in his magical abilities would indeed make a poor leader. Not that she really could understand how it felt to lack something so close to herself - she had naught to lose. He had asked her to stay, she repeated in her head, feeling pricks of tears gathering in her eyes as her heart shattered at the words. Why had she fled? Had she forgotten who she was leaving behind? Blinking quickly to subdue the burning and press her true feelings back into the closely confined box that she had held them in for so many years, she forced herself to replay the words that described his decisions to blame the feather and teeth adorned mare for their failures. Did the others feel this way as well? Sliding her eyes across the few who had come to Deimos' call and remembering their cold lack of concern, she bitterly had to admit to herself that none loved the Empress any longer but she.

The tears threatened and were beaten back again, in sorrow for her friend, so alone in the world when she had thought she was never to be so again.

Her thoughts swallowed his kind words in mind of her character, the foundations that were building beneath them despite her loathe to accept their presence. Perhaps she should have listened; it would have warmed her to know that she was respected still, if only by the mad machinist.

Distantly she watched his departure, an instance that on a more joyful day would have brought a smile to her face in memory of that long ago dark day when he had abandoned her confused and wondering in her cave in much the same fashion. Her pointed fingers now introverted and spread broad, towards herself and all those who had ever come to the call of the Empress, their false allegiance as blatant as the fact that she could not dwell on her own personal problems very long in the midst of a meeting before all discussion was closed.

Lifting her ears once more, realizing only as she did so that they had fallen back to a partial mast in her contemplation, she returned her focus to Kelec as he answered her inquiries as to how he felt he might help them live more fulfilled. A much needed distraction, he began explaining and she was quickly enthralled, especially by the notion of breaking the stone away with water and fire. A mare who admired imagery in her own right (sweetly remembering her conversation with Deodat in the Frozen Arch), she found the mental picture of such a building technique alluring and poetic; a good thing to focus on considering the horse-creature was now frantically waving his extra limbs around while he spoke, something he had done on their first meeting that she still could not understand. It made her want to rip the damn things off, especially in her current state, but she attempted to maintain a facade of cool collection despite her rancorous desires.

She admired his concept of covered pathways, she herself the sort to hole away in a dry place when the cold rain fell as if the water would melt her flesh like some big bad witch of the West. When he spoke the unusual word to describe the greenhouse, her attentions heightened as they always did when presented with strange language, filing away the term for later use should she ever really need it. All of the ideas he mentioned were highly intriguing and sounded quite useful, especially with the harsh winter of no sun so fresh in her mind; she had only just managed to regain the weight that had fled from her body in the wake of so little foraging to be found, and while the Basin usually did not suffer so desperately during the cold months due to it's natural covering from the mountain, it couldn't hurt to have extra things to eat that were not normally growing or available while the frosts set in.

Especially clover. There was nothing more wonderful than a spring bloom of the wondrous purple flower upon her tongue - except, perhaps, the blood of a hornless trembling in fear of her wrath.

"How many will you need to build this cheaptha teasa before the cold arrives?" she inquired of the flame haired creature, all savagery vanished from her voice and replaced with a lilting sadness no matter how sweet her smile lay upon her lips, "I also am interested in seeing a few of the caves towards the center of the land expanded for the sake of mothers and their children as you have described. The walkways are equally useful but of less importance than those which stave the cold and put food in our bellies." Looking around the small gathering of faces in case she had happened to miss him (though she doubted it, what with his striped pelt) and finding Crowley to not be among them, she frowned subtly before returning to her words. "The Weaver, however, may as well begin working on the awnings, if he does not mind the extra work," she added in, excluding the verbal abuse sure to arrive at his doorstep if he refused to assist the herd which he had sworn to serve, "if the Lord Deimos does not object to these changes I will contact Crowley as soon as I might. I myself believe these structures will be of great use, and thank you for your ingenuity."

Surprising, considering how he looks.