You're not welcome. Go figure. But you take little note of it. You're as awkward here as an elephant in a china shop. You're a champion of destruction, a scar mottled hide with some eyes and lungs hidden inside. You're made for tearing things down, chaotic realignment of the cosmos, breaking everything beneath your hooves and other such despicable pastimes. Unfortunately, nobody gives out an A for Effort anymore. You get A's for actually doing things like you're supposed to, not trying and failing. This isn't the minors anymore. You're playing in the big leagues.

She nods at you. Interesting. You stand there for a while, still weaving and bobbing your head, legs spread just a little too wide to be natural, when you remember you're probably supposed to nod to. Oh yeah. Manners. You make a jerky motion to lower your head, but something seems off. Why are you so top heavy? Oh yeah. The orb. Since it's on your shoulder, even though its not that heavy, it still shifts your weight to the front. And when you walk around tiptoeing the line between totally smashed and functional, any disturbance of your normal weight patterns is a cause for concern. Stupid orb.

All-in-all, you're pretty lucky she hasn't decided to insult you to the high heavens. You wouldn't just be able to stand idly by and let her, after all, but you're really in no shape to be crossing hooves or horns with anyone. The scabs formed by the electric burns still tug at your flesh, even though Reizand did her best to heal you up, and they would certainly tip the scales in the enemies favor. But even so, you're too stubborn to just let something like that go. You are Oxy after all.

You watch her response to your question and you are sorely reassured that you are awkward. She doesn't seem altogether pleased that you just jumped on her like that and, despite the fact that you're fully aware of this, you're not sure what else you could have said. Really, it's the least of your problems. I seek my sisters, she says, and it's your turn raise your brow. Why would you follow your family? Well... maybe her life was a little better than yours. She sounds privileged, if only because her voice sounds foreign and in your mind that means special.

So anyways, her sisters. That's not really anything you can help with, you're sure, and your mind is set to thinking about how your going to convince this alarming princess to make her way home with you. The asylum needs members. Even those that are.... slightly unwilling. “Sure, Helovia, you grunt out. “Welcome.” Ok, that was a little sarcastic.

“Look lady, I don't know your sisters.” She hasn't even mentioned their names, but you're like 98% sure that you have no idea who her sisters are. You know a grand total of maybe 15 horses. The chances that one of them are her sibling... almost none, considering how many horses seem to wander around Helovia on the regular. “But I've got.... I've got a....” Oh good grief, what is her name anyways. Circuta. Did you ever actually learn it? You don't think so. You just know her as the phantom seeker. She calls you Plaguebearer. She's alright. She brought you drugs. “Our Phantom Seeker, our informant, is as good as any. She might know them.” You hope.