A certain cool fury pooled deep in the shadow-mare, running easily through her veins, igniting her passion for this cause. These rats thought that they could simply join the Edge, the only holy land, as it were, for her race. As Psyche looked around her, she was pleased to see more fighters than she'd originally thought. Pride swelled now in her, mixing with her fury - pride in herself, in her race, in Mauja, in his herd. Despite all that had come between them, she knew that he was indeed a King, and his herd would follow him into battle and fight, hard, for the beliefs that they all shared in.

The ebony fae tossed her head, absorbing the FrostHeart's directions, but ignoring them nonetheless. It was useful to know who the herd would be targeting - but for her, the war had become far too personal to aim for such trivial creatures. Her own brother, fighting on their side - sure, he had always thought differently than Psyche and Giselle, but he had not turned on family. But then, why would he be any different than the rest of her kin? Her bloodline needed cleansing, desperately, and it appeared that Paladin would be the first to fall.

The first battle cry, and then the first line of attack leapt forward; Giselle paused only to shout out commands, as though she were in charge of Psyche. The shadow-mare's anger grew tenfold in that moment, and she longed to ignore her sister's demands; but there would be time for that later, and Giselle had created a good plan. A snort as her frame launched into motion, at first perpendicular to the line of battle, then swinging in a wide arc to get to Paladin's other side. A malicious grin: if Giselle wanted to be the first to approach Paladin, then let her - she would be the first to feel her blood boil.

Psyche's strides lengthened as she made her way into the thick of battle, doing her best to dodge through the chaos. Her amber gaze was focused on Paladin, though her auds swiveled constantly, seeking threats. She had metered her gaze perfectly; Giselle arrived before Psyche, and though the shadow-mare couldn't see if Giselle made contact, it was still an excellent decoy. Lowering her head, her gnarled, twisting horn aimed for PALADIN, she charged, resisting the urge to cry out. Better to be silent, better to sneak up on him, aim for his side, hope to rip his side open and watch his insides pool in the dust.

[W/C: 429]

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think.