The stag who accompanies the stranger is one that Illynx, quite thankfully, finds she can usually predict as if he is the changing faces of the Moon herself, steady and always the same. It is not to say that Deodat is not a dynamic being with multiple facets to his person, but he is still less complex than wild eyed Zikar-Sin or her moody and brooding Engineer. She takes in the sound of Hotaru’s name from his dark rimmed lips and nods her greeting to the pretty mare as she observes the reaction that rises from her – to find it ill suited. There is arrogance in the way her head rises and her chest gathers, normally something Illynx disregards in her herd mates once she has come to see their value beyond the size of their egos, she herself among the more egotistical creatures to walk the Basin and thus harboring little ill will to others who saw the value in their own being. But this woman was new, baring the child of one of her corporals (she could only assume, of course, from the love struck looks on their faces and the desire within herself for this to be a positive meeting, not one in which Deodat accepts a bastard to be his when the woman is merely a tramp who had been with every man from here to the Marsh, as some women could be) and unknown to Illynx but for her interest in the arcane might that could be found in this land and an obvious affection for the stalwart and hardened cousin of the Doctor.

That she is new makes her display off putting, Illynx having found even the most audacious of unicorns to wander up the mountain capable of restraining their pride for at least the first conversation with their superiors. Still, she does give the mare some marks for bravery and a hardened spirit, and as the words flow past the lips of the woman she takes them in and smiles. At least she explains away the width of her guts and the affection plastered to either of their faces, and Illynx settles her worries that this isn’t Deodat’s child and progresses into the conversation knowing that, while she may decide any number of things of Hotaru, she is welcome here for as long as she suckles the Corporal’s babe and bringing into the world another strong unicorn.

So strong are her desires to see her crowned haven that she does not truly care from whose twat the children fall out of, so long as they are born capable and wearing horns with no blemishes such as wings or other deviant parts. It is with this regard that she continues to hear the sweet, lacy words that rise from the young woman’s lips, all the learning of the Edge heard in each refined note and phrase that extends from her throat, and those words draw a smile to the lips of the Lady as Hotaru mentions that she is the child of Tolio.

That may be some of the arrogance bleeding from her, thinks the golden bitch, for she truly belongs here and was merely lost until now. Her following words deepen this resolve within her, and the predatory gleam that is known to capture Illynx at such discoveries haunts her lips and makes her golden eyes flash deviously in their black rimmed holds. The initial distrust of the roan that had flooded her is just as quickly washed away, the Lady now listening to the easy flow of the learned mare’s words as she requests a rank with all the tact that could be expected of the daughter of charming Tolio. She wonders, as she looks at her, who her dam was to throw such a splendid pink hue – Tolio is the color of snow and copper, definitely handsome but not so mouth-wateringly beautiful as this one.
It is a dangerous combination, to be beautiful and wise, and Illynx feels her heart beat faster at the potential risk and benefits that accompanies the power of wielding yet another splendid and undeniable woman among her fold. As Hotaru’s words close, a silvery stream of laughter breaks into the air, the Lady herself feeling quite the same about many of the delectable choices that linger in the snow.

No finer men in all of Helovia – not that men were all that fine.

With minute sorrow etched artistically into her features, she begins her words to counter those of Hotaru, beginning with the things that were sad to finish with more pleasant thoughts. "Faelene is gone, to where we do not know," she says softly, remembering the tender figure of Sielu in the Threshold and feeling that dark worry strike at her again for the safety of the former Thief, "the Frostheart and I found her youngest daughter in the Threshold, alone and dying – though we did manage to spare her the cold finality of death, though perhaps the Doctor or Deodat told you as much of our missing numbers. Roland is now the Thief in her place, while we anxiously watch for her return." She sighs, weary of fretting over those she had not seen since the season of death and weary of having to explain their absences to others. It was too indicative of failures on her behalf to protect them, and it sours her heart to dwell on it. "Your sire is still among our secret keepers, however, and any daughter of such a fine gentleman as Tolio is always welcome among the snow," she adds with a smile, letting the conversation lighten along with the vibrancy of her voice, "the man beside you now can help you begin your work for the soldiers, or you may find Belial or Torleik to be more of your liking. All, of course, are delightfully handsome, so I fear there will be no easy selection in so far as finding the most attractive." She says the last with a playful wink and another bout of tinkling laughter, flashing like so much powdered metal in the air and just as cold and sharp if one listens to the undertones rippling beneath the gleaming sound of her elation; she herself held a sharp interest in both the Corporal who was here and the General, both handsome and clever in their own right.

What held her in check was the bond she shared with the Engineer, having observed his behavior since their union to discover that he was a faithful (or perhaps simply droll) man who kept to himself and watched their son with the protective instincts she had so longed for in the father of her children. Distant, perhaps even cold in nature was her darling Engineer, but she herself was no better and so she could expect little more of anyone else in her life. Perhaps that was what held her in place, a woman with few ties and even fewer she would be loathe to sever – she would only ruin the others, where Ulrik was seemingly incapable of collecting rust and tarnish from close contact with such a wretched creature as herself.

"Our main cause at the moment are the heathens who tortured Arah and her children and stole away our General in the darkness, known as the Regime and believed to be located not far from World’s Edge," her smile grows dark and visceral, her golden eyes glittering deviously in her face, "if you can bring me any of their heads, the rewards are boundless."