Ki'irha had not seen the haruspex since the prison cleaning, and even then their issues had not been resolved. She had played nice, giving him a blade she had found at the bottom of the lake. But his denial of her, his vehemence in the face of her vulnerability still ached. He may believe they made peace, but for the corporal, peace was a frail thing ready to shatter at any moment. And the baby? The colt, golden and studded with bloody stars, was the product of a thief and a storyteller. He was a blessing to deserving parents, but to her, he was a kick in the teeth, salt in a wound too new to be healed. Everything had happened at once, and she had been knocked into a tailspin she struggled to break from. She had made every attempt to avoid him since the birth of his son, and had been surprisingly successful.

Still, when she saw him approaching the entryway to the basin, a soft spot that still remained for him pushed her to turn around and meet him upon his return home. Before him bounded his companion... companions? She had never seen the cerndyr who frolicked beside Lochan. That was unusual. Perhaps after they discussed everything there was to discuss, she could fawn over the newest extension of his soul. Because, despite her final comments on the eve of their spar, she didn't want to be at war with the stallion. She wanted everything to be okay. More than anything, she wanted her friend back.

As she approached, she tried to put together the words she needed to say. Did she apologize? Did she tell him she didn't mean it? Maybe she could just let her negative feelings go, and allow his reconciliation to suffice.

"Ashamin!" She called, voice light as a chilled draft caught it from her lips and carried it to him. But as she approached, she saw two others approaching. She snorted, her dissatisfaction leaving her nostrils in a frozen wisp. The sweetest stallion she'd ever met (her teeth hurt just thinking about him) arrived, but not before a mare she had never met reached Ashamin first. She had been present at the birth of Rein, so she could be considered a vaguely familiar face.

And then, the star girl saw her.

The newcomer stood beside Ashamin, and her lean and somewhat awkward stature betrayed her age. She seemed almost hesitant, as she should. The yearling, wings clamped to her sides, was hornless. Was she a prisoner? No, Ashamin wasn't that kind of person. Maybe a guest, family to an inhabitant of the Basin, who required escorting as to not allow her any sense of freedom within the Basin walls. Ki'irha didn't understand why she would be here. Unless - no, it was against their law. When she herself had been escorted to the Basin by d'Artagnan, he had explained to her that the north provided refuge only to those who wore horns.

Ears twisted back as she came to a stop, eyes stern and cold. Eldala and Johnny chattered away, unawares to the corporal's apprehension. Despite her less than impressive height, her proud stance made up for any questions about her intentions. She expected an answer, though she was not owed one in the slightest. Tail flicked ever so slightly, unable to fully control her tension. "Ashamin," she repeated, her voice losing any of the warmth it previously held. She didn't acknowledge the other two, as this was not a social exchange. No, this was business. Silver fell to meet the golden pools of the newcomer.

"Who is this?"