Illynx followed after Arah, the only face she recognized aside from Destry’s, and far more suitable for companionship than the latter. Perhaps she should have walked ahead, but the woman didn’t feel particularly herself yet, still lingering in the memories of being ill with the disease that the turtle had sent them out to finish cleaning up after. More and more came to her every day, but she found that she still could not recall all the events that had transgressed while her mind had been feeding the darkness that had grown within her, and it left her rather stuck in her thoughts and less worried about making appearances.

Besides, Arah had always been faithful and of much use to the herd, no matter the differences in who the two women were or what ranks either of them held. Illynx could respect her for the antlers rising from her brow and the heart that beat within her chest, and that was suitable enough for her to follow behind the pretty white mare towards whatever task they would discover. Either way, we all know that the Gilded Blade has much face to recover in light of her past indiscretions – Arah being one of those who had spoken against her vehement refusal to accept that Psyche was to be replaced by Deimos.

She doesn’t resent the Impersonator for it. Illynx may just be growing up.

They arrive to a splendidly beautiful and mysterious structure in the middle of a dreamy wood, the trees barren and covered in a fine layer of frost and snow to befit the season. Her breath comes out in heavy plumes from dark rimmed nostrils as she gazes upon the sight of the prismatic colors dancing along the floor of the building, the stately rise of the pillars which give it height.

The only flaw in the glorious scene was that over the rippling of the fabric lined pillars, there was a babble of water, and within the water, many small black devils.

She eyes them with disgust writ across her features, peering into the water at the little things as Arah inquires if any are crafters and then builds a net while the pegasus offers ice magic and builds a small frozen box. She looks deeply into the water and ponders until their chatter is faded and then rises her eyes to look at them both, a twinkling light growing in their depths.

"The box is a good plan, as is the net. Guide as many as you can towards the box, Arah," she says, swallowing her agitation at having to work with a winged creature for the sake of her gluttonous desire for more power, "I can electrify the water that they are in and, with any luck, it’ll fry the little fiends."