For the second time in her life and ventures through the Threshold, there is a massive cat in her path – and because it is the second time, she even has a name that she can assume to call it by, a title that was given to her by the other one. Tiger, Cin had called himself, but he had been of a different color and not so large as this one, his eyes blue rather than the piercing amber that scan the world from the striped face of the predator that lingers in the forest of beginnings.

She is hesitant, as she should rightly be; Kyst along her spine chirrups in befuddled wonderment at the size of the beast they have discovered, her ice blue eyes lingering on the sheer breadth of the paws nestled in the undergrowth and the promise of the size of the knives they sheathed. Pulses emanate from the bird creature along the golden woman’s spine that feel like envy and desire all meshed into one, complicated flavor, and the Lady feels her ears flick back in temporary annoyance at their emotional bond and that the young griffon is so inept at keeping them to herself.

Illynx can almost feel her emotions trying to seep out and latch into the core of the little creature, but she can pull them back most of the time or quickly convert them into other similar sensations, leaving Kyst with the trailing ends of a smoke like sensation (barely there before it faded into nothing, a smothered scent of something that lingered in the air) rather than the pure and pulsing hums that strike her bonded unicorn when the cat-bird feels; the unicorn mare is prideful of her skills, and being restrained and tactful even with a soul bonded animal is high on her list of priorities. Not to mention that Kyst was rather moody and surely the undulating sensations that ride beneath Illynx cool, dark surface would agitate her into digging her claws more savagely than is necessary, as is often the case when Illynx draws too long on the patience of the griffon.

The mountainous queen angles herself towards the cat, deciding against her reservations to approach and see if she is cognizant as Cin had been, somehow different from the other animals that wandered the wilderness in ways that she did not understand. Maybe some day, she might remember to ask the Gods of these peculiar animals, more wizened than their peers, capable of as much magic and strength as the unicorns who were meant to rule the earth. And while it may seem odd that a racist mare accepts a giant, speaking cat where she does not accept the winged or those plain of face, it is no such thing to her when she spies the long, dangerous white teeth or the lean strength with which these tigers carry themselves. That the cats wear thick coats, obviously resilient to the bitter cold of the Basin’s winters (fast approaching, the trees growing bloody and golden in the cooling of the air as it faded into the white months), is another benefit that leaves her unable to resist and makes her all the more flattering as she smiles and makes her presence known.

Of course, she is prepared to run if this is just another cat, intent on tearing flesh from bone and devouring the horses and unicorns that wander this wood, but the gleam of metal around her neck is promising and adds confidence to the feminine lilt of the Lady’s voice. "Salutations, Tigress," she says, nodding her hello with all the warmth she can filter into her plastic smile, "it is a fine afternoon, is it not?" She glances around her, golden eyes sparkling with delight at potentially bringing home this naturally crafted weapon. "I am Illynx, Lady of the Aurora Basin to the North. Welcome to Helovia, assuming you have not been here long."

The cat looks up at her with those eyes that seem to see everything as they always do, the same curious wonder striking her as to where that inner fierceness stems from rising once more into her thoughts before slipping away behind the throaty purr of the tiger’s voice as she returns words. The Lady’s smile dawns all the more brightly, pleased that she has been correct in assuming that this was an intelligent creature and not one of the dumb beasts that haunted the surface of Loorien with partial souls and dreamless minds. Illynx catches her name, Saffron, and thinks of the purple flowers called by the same name, seeing little correlation between the bloom and the tiger at immediate glance.

It is likely just a name, as many are, something her dam found pretty or that she selected herself, if she had lived a life like Aithniel.

As she had discovered in her last encounter with a tiger, the female is of few words and many more stares, but the unicorn is undaunted, too used to the stoic or cold demeanors of her herd mates to be distressed by the lack luster conversational skills of the dormant cat. Not all could be linguists, after all, and their lack of talent in the field made Illynx all the more glorious in lieu of their failures. "I am surprised no others have beat me to the opportunity to make your acquaintance. We do not see many of your kind in this land, you see," she carries on the conversation as if the tigress is an old friend remembered from youth, the light hearted nature of her words accented by the jovial enrichment that saturates each note, "I have lived here many years and only met one other like you… well, as like you as I will ever get, I am sure." She smiles, a humorous thing that lights her eyes up. "He was white, like the snows of my home," she takes a short breath for dramatic effect, running her eyes across the build of the feline and hoping that, like most things, she was susceptible to gentle strokes of the ego, "but it is surely delightful to see such splendid color rather than the muted pallet of that one."

Turning to look out over the trees at the position of the sun to see how long she could dally in conversation to avoid the darkness falling on them should the cat decide to accompany her, the Lady ponders over a way to elude to such things in the short silence that elapses the end of her rambling about Cin - a tiger that Saffron surely did not know or care about.

"Do you seek a home, Saffron?" she asks, going the route that was most obvious, "there are many to be had in Helovia, but none as fine as my own. You seem well suited for the winds and snow of the mountains."

As she had expected the cat would do, she is silent through all the hot air that buffets from the dark lips of the sly tongued bitch, a knowing expression finding its way on the passive features of the tiger that gives the mare enough of a notice that her game is being played with one who is not stupid – and while she usually gloats on the discovery of an idiot, in this particular case, she is glad. A dumb creature such as this would be a dangerous threat to bring home; a smart one would see all the swords drifting around the vale and mind themselves accordingly. That was not to say that there wouldn’t be disagreements and scuffles, of which there were plenty as with most families – the difference being that the cold hearted Lady cared very little for their squabbles and personal concerns, so long as they weren’t killing one another or breaking any of their rather loosely defined rules.

The compliment laced in the words of the feline also deepens Illynx’s assumptions that the tigress knows that the woman is often found playing this game with lyrics and that she is not fooled; still, the offer is tempting enough to draw further questions from the odd mouth of the beast, and the Lady graciously smiles in return for the knowledge that she has dangled enough sparkle before the cat to catch her attention. Now there was just the closing deal to be made with the usually solitary creature, who surely would not want to be a part of the usual goings on of the Basin.

She asks as much, drawing to mind the memory, faint, of course, of a large wolf that had been called the Warden. Grasping for the boundaries on that relationship, she returns the parameters as she remembers them to be, altered more to her liking and in ways that she feels will better suit the tiger’s mindset from what she has gleaned of her so far.

"As with any home, I expect you to have a desire to defend it," she explains, "but the affairs of unicorns are not those of a tiger, and I do not claim any hold to your loyalties beyond ensuring that the borders are secure and your meals come from flesh not belonging to my hold." A smile crosses her, ever so devilish in its lines, a dark gleam rising in the very depths of her eyes and flickering faintly through the friendly ruse she displays. "As with all politics, there are victims, of course. An occasional free meal may be given to you from the spoils of war, in return for your kind offer to bolster our ranks with your strength," her voice regains its sweetness over the statement, the dark undertone swept away in the promises of tomorrow, "and there are always things to be done, if you grow restless and wish for an assignment. There is, of course, the additional benefit of friends – whether you truly consider them such or not. The unicorns of the Basin are fierce in their pride, and will defend any who call our hidden haven home to the end, bonds that have been tested in our many years together."

She watches the glimmer of amusement with a lack of understanding where the cat creature upon her back makes a small mewling sound of knowing when she senses her Lady’s hesitation. There will come a time when Kyst can explain the mind of cats and various other wild beasts to her master when she flounders, but for now, all she has is what she can sense through the emotional fluctuations of her bonded – and even that is scant compared to what it will be. There is no way for the griffon to explain that the tiger cares very little for companionship, as most large felines do not, but the little kestrel creature has faith in the wit of her golden Lady, as well. Very little escapes the woman’s notice, even if she doesn’t immediately know what it means, and the griffon turns her haughty blue eyes to the massive cat as if to say as much while Illynx only smiles sweetly in response to the tigress’ change of body language and the narrowing of her eyes.

It means, the golden wench hopes, that her offer is a good one and that the beast is properly tempted. She wonders if there will be any additions to the strange contract between unicorn and predator when just that happens – and she takes in the words of the creature with great interest and a rising spark of curiosity that diminishes to humor at the sound of a name she has heard before.

At first, she sees rise to mind the image of an athletic bay mare that had asked to be a healer and then redirected her path to that of a soldier, a woman that Illynx herself had trained while still a corporal beneath Psyche. Like most she had directed, the memory of the woman who had vanished made her feel a slight twinge of loss and jealous regret, a toy lost to the weave of time as so many were. But that the Zima mentioned is not a unicorn at all and truly a wolf is all the more intriguing – for surely a wolf will get along better among the unicorns than even the cat.

Her mind goes to Kirchoff, Odette, and the various other hounds of the mountain, knowing that they will delight in having a distant relative running among their pack when they took off in chase. Her smile becomes warm and welcoming, not a moment of hesitation before she accepts the offer and adds in, what she hopes, at least, to be the seal on the envelope that would deliver not only one but two weapons to her doorstep.

"The Basin is home to many wolves, dogs, and hellhounds, bonded to the unicorns who live there. They would delight in another member in their chases, I am sure, especially one clever as your Zima surely is," her golden eyes crinkle under the weight of her glorious smile, their depths burning, "we have also housed a wolf before, to great success for both parties involved, and many of them still remember her fondly. Both of you shall quickly find yourselves welcome and quite happy, I am sure."