Eventide is softly casting o'er the earth a magic spell,

And a love-song, everlasting, on the night wind seems to swell.

Ever since the meeting a warm glow had resided within her, like a private little sun taken residence not far from the heart. It was joy and confidence, it was a new sense of belonging and purpose, because by being accepted by the newly appointed Seer as his assistant, acolyte and legitimate tag along Erthë finally felt that she was accepted within the Edge. Not as a by-product of her father, nor because she happened to know the King fairly well; she was there by her own power, of her own making, and this was accepted and approved of.

She hadn't even asked in what business the midnight-hued stallion set out, as she caught him leaving the borders of their woodland realm. Nor had she asked if she was welcome to join. Instead she simply followed in his footsteps, quiet and a fair bit slower due to the heavy limp on a front leg. Never would she dream of calling out, of asking him to slow down and match her pace; she'd die before disturbing him in whatever duty he performed.

No, the filly just wanted to be there, to see and listen and try to understand - because surely, obviously, a Seer had to always be a Seer and do a Seer's duty.

Right?

As she finally caught up with Alune however, her intent of remaining unobtrusive and silent began to falter right away. They'd caught up with a group of strangers, newcomers by the look of it and the usual gaggle of hopeful recruiters. Her superior made the usual introductions and offers, but even as she listened the filly couldn't help but eye the two mares sceptically, her usual exuberant acceptance of people doused rather effectively by the equine mare's harsh refusal.

"I don't know, sir," she mumbled and took a tentative half step towards Alune, "are you sure we want them in the Edge? It's good to be welcoming and all, but personally I don't really have much patience for rude people."

Pale eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the white-splashed woman, gaze as steady as it was direct; rare was the time when Erthë felt instantaneous dislike towards someone, but this seemed to be one of those instances. The bay, on the other hand, had remained silent so far. This was a definite improvement; she hoped the mare would prove more likable than her comrade, and also that either or both wold choose to follow anyone but themselves. Were they really in such dire need to swell the ranks that they had to accept anyone that came knocking? Would it not be better to wait, see what they were truly like and then convince them that the World's Edge was the better option?

But the young girl said none of this out loud. Unlike the ebony one, she had been taught manners as she grew up. And she, unlike the ebony one, knew how to phrase the words so that they sounded pleasant, regardless of which tone of voice one used.

"My name is Erthë, also of the World's Edge. If you are not here to seek aid, then for what purpose have you come to Helovia, miss...?"

Her voice, unusually cool and correct as she addressed the strangers, trailed off as pale dual-colored eyes roamed from one to the other beneath raised brows, asking the question her tongue refused to pose. There, now that was polite, wasn't it. Not very pleasant, perhaps, but definitely polite.

Take that, you paint-dribbly ebony mare you.