Her walks of the night were like cherished secrets that she kept to herself, strolling through the bending grasses of the falling summer and the bright, residual blooms that clung to its vibrant surface, stubbornly refusing the cold that couldn’t quite reach its fingers this far from the slopes of the mountains. The wind carries the smells of her people, drifting in a blended ripple that personifies this land; of them, there are some more marked, the paths of each soldier defined as she crosses them for they keep their patrols like a steady, well made clock keeps its tick, the smell of her lover deep in the grasses around the Sentinel and his brother’s rising bones, trailing into the trees where he gathered his thoughts. And the smell of the children, who played in the sunlight and chased butterflies with the freedom of youth, untested by the hard laws of their home and their naïve eyes opened only to the beauty that she now felt swell from her vision deep down into her soul.

The lights of the aurora dance on her platinum covered spine, the fringes of gold on her pelt revealed ghostlike and gleaming on her clean coat where the ethereal light struck them, and her pace is even and peaceful with golden eyes sweeping across the horizon with the contentedness of a babe nestled alongside its dam. Her son is sleeping, innocent and sweet behind his dream vale, and will sleep into the morning as he does for the time. She knows youth will wear away and along with it his need for so many dreams, an ironic truth that would reflect the way his perspective on life would have to change, as well.

As she draws close to the region where Hotaru stands with her new daughter tight to her side, her muzzle ripples at the foreign scent of blood and placenta where there is normally only cool water and sand, the sweet smell of the blossoms drifting among the shore’s perforating odor. Making her pace more obvious in so far as the rustling of the grass against her legs so as not to startle the new mother or her child, she inquisitively moves towards the silhouettes she manages to pick out against the mirror like sheet of the lake.

Her smile is one of great happiness to see the child standing and strong, already drawing from the fount that will give her all the strength she needs to grow powerful and domineering as a unicorn mare should be. The Lady attempts to meet the eyes of the rosy mother, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the appearance of the babe, a most splendid combination of both her parents and living proof that she was of Basin blood, through and through. "She’s beautiful as her dam," she expresses with soft words, ears lifted and eyes glimmering as she takes a second look over the filly, "What have you decided to call her?"