Perhaps Imonada was not the best choice for recruiting from the Threshold, especially when there was a crowd. It was difficult for her to jump in with gaiety and self-assurance; she preferred to stand back, watch things play out and understand her place before getting involved. Elsa and Colt's dominance over the conversation pretty much shut her out, two strong personalities vying for control in a subtle dance of powers. Even the filly commanded presence with her innocence and friendliness; the black pegasus of the group felt like a dim planet circling blazing stars, their charismatic light most certainly pulling Dante in with the promise of sharing that blinding glory. But she was here and had already begun; what could she do, bow away politely and excuse herself simply because she felt outshined? That would appear even more awkward than her kept quietness, so she would bolster through her shyness, if only to help bring about an eventual end to her discomfort without sacrificing face.

When there is a moment after Colt speaks, Imonada finally pipes up, her throaty smooth voice like that of a jazz singer with an opium pipe dangling precariously between nimble fingers. It belies her inner turmoil, her nervousness; it is her mask she dons, channeling her words through a filter of easy decadence. "What Elsa said is true, aside from the Aurora Basin. They do not take kindly to those without unicorn blood or those who do not express it." Which might explain their lack of representation in approaching the stallion equine, but she leaves such a thing to be surmised by her and Colt's tone regarding the Frostbreath dwellers. Now to sell her herd to him, for it was her turn. That was why she was here, after all, in addition to learning new names and faces. "Hidden Falls is not too far from here, to the west. It is a valley fed by a countless waterfalls. Lush, verdant. You would be welcomed there with open arms, but we would expect you to take a role as we do not have citizens. You'd be earning your keep, but all the same you'd have ample opportunity to make a name for yourself." That... was a lot more than she expected to say. Would the others say something disparaging about her little speech? She was priming herself for it, already thinking of comebacks to imaginary jabs.

While the majority of her attention was set upon Dante, with the occasional split to keep track of the other mares, Colt begins to capture more of Imonada's audience. She would not, could not, forget a face or patterning; this bedraggled creature was the one she attempted to steal from and her eyes pinpoint on the amulet that was suppose to a gift for Knox, but she had failed spectacularly. At least she was not caught at the time, but would Colt recognize her scent? Would she piece the little clues together and realize that a thief was in her midst? She quickly looks away from the amulet, but as wild and unkempt Colt was, she possessed a captivating spark that made Imonada watch her; the tension in her expression, the way her eyes could not betray her feelings even if she strained to keep a forced smile with words of manipulation and beguilement, a fire coursing beneath the veneer that promised retribution. Something was going to happen today; in a cold and clinical way, Imonada held a small hope for it... It would be terribly interesting, after all.

"Talk."