Long legs race along the rims of barren pools with as much grace as a dancer, skirting their mossy edges with fine-tuned movements and steady feet. White-marked naves are wide as the lady tears across the dying grass, taking in long drags of air tinted with a most concerning scent: something is wrong. Broad instruments whip out from either side of the radiant warrior and immediately return from whence they came; despite the rather obvious fact that they provide too much drag to run effectively, an unnaturally heavy feeling can also be felt permeating the air. The maiden doesn't know what to think of it -- she just knows that it doesn't belong.

She can feel the boy's curiosity gathering at the edges of her psyche, but he does not unleash it upon her until after the beauty has rounded the last of the empty basins. The caress of his mind against hers is like a swift kiss across her cheek, tender and gentle and very unexpected. She is appreciative of the care that her boy is taking today, for her emotions have proven to be volatile as of late. The apple that had once been ripe for picking was bitten into by her golden Czar, after all.

Yes, boy? Despite the swirling masses of distrust and hatred residing in her belly, the glistening peahen is careful not to take her anger out on the kitten. This might come as a surprise to those who know her; normally the bird would care little for those she may cause harm to, but her boy has proven his usefulness. And as much as she will never admit to it, the bird is slowly discovering that she loves him in all his strangeness. A barred foot slams into the ground at that.

While the bird has been struggling with her own feelings, though, the feathered feline atop her has been observing her shifting mood. His own thoughts have dipped back and forth between concern for his mother and worry for the worms, and to the boy the importance of one outweighs the other a thousand-fold; to his beautiful vixen, though, it is quite the opposite. For a fleeting moment his frustration is evident in his inability to converse freely with the peahen, but he replaces the spontaneous burst of emotion with another, quieter thought. The Aztec's stride does not falter under the pressure that his undying love puts her in, but she does not respond to him in kind. Alternitavely, she asks him what he thinks of their meeting with Kahlua.

Those creatures were already so disgusting, and then they sought to harm us. Why do you think they did so? Is the land sick? Mictla, who is learning that the brilliant bird does not respond well to heartfelt conversations or serene ideals, shrugs off her rejection and projects his agreement instead. His answer must have been what she was looking for, for the maiden does not further their conversation.

Blazing eyes focus on the yellowing lands surrounding her, trying to think of them as something other than hers. Fortunately for the possessive mare -- and in accordance to the peculiar feeling she had sensed earlier -- a shift in the scene ahead of her provides for a suitable distraction. The sound of their piercing croaks reaches her first, and light eyes turn to the heavens to watch as dark blobs fall from the sky. She is not near enough to those who have gathered in her-- in their territory to share in their demise just yet, but her maw still parts in a cry of outrage.

"How DARE you!" The volume in her voice is almost enough to make one concerned for her vocal chords, but the furious Chieftess cares naught for her own sake; her concern is for those who have met here, and even though she may not admire many of them, she still feels for them. It is her duty to protect her people, and it is a task that has been set about her even before she came to this land. Sensing how much this latest attack has affected her, the shifting boy joins in with a cry of his own, leaping from his mother's back and transforming as quickly as the amphibious rain came. His form is not one he has ever taken before, and even in its unfamiliarity the newly-made creature knows he wields the power to serve well in the battle to come. The roar that parts from the manticore's lips is admirable even to the bird, who is shocked into silence by the magnificence of her bonded's new body.

Rather than comment on it, though, she returns to the task at hand, plunging head-first into the writhing masses of plummeting bodies. Almost as soon as the Aztec has begun to stomp on their filthy forms, though, their assault subsides to nothing. The twisting lady is more frustrated than anything at their retreat, but dark ears rise from their beds along her skull to pay heed to Ghost's words. Apparently she has missed more than just the frogs in this meeting, and the beauty stares down her nose at the wraith. What is happening here?

Finding that she is suddenly unable to look upon the dark lady, the seething warrior turns to address her Czar, who she finds she actually hates less now. "Another attack, then. Not unlike the first. An ominous feeling that permeates the air, an assault by rotting filth, and then all is normal." A dark hoof scrapes across the slime that the imploding bodies left, making a grotesque squelch!. "Do what must be done, Midas. I trust your judgement." A spark permeates her stare as she looks upon him. She has, in fact, voiced aloud that she has faith in him, and she means it. She trusts the golden man more than the red-winged lady and all of her secrets.

Addressing the measly crowd before her, now, the warrior-maiden projects her voice so that even those just joining the clamour may hear her. The cold touch of the necklace that the painted queen crafted for her reminds the beauty of the details of their meeting. "A few days have passed since the last attack I witnessed. I was on the floating island when it happened, with the Edge's Queen. Worms rose up from the ground beneath our hooves and tried to burrow inside our legs and tunnel in our feet. Just as quickly as they arrived, though, they died, and then the winds took them." She licks her lips, watching the strange beast at her side shrink down into something more familiar. The boy has returned to his original form, being that of a feathered serval.

"I don't know what caused this, but I do know that I will find out. It's my duty as your spy, after all." And it will always be my duty, even after I am so much more.

{Super long, sorry, muse is amazing today! Just getting a warning up. This is after the meeting Bellona is going to call on the island to warn people there!}

"Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in."