One of the most appealing aspects of taking up residence in the Aurora Basin, was the naturally occurring Hot Springs. Myrddin often found himself wading into the freezing waters of the Steppe, letting the cold seep into his ancient joints, numbing them to the point where Myrddin felt nothing at all. The <>heat however, had just the opposite effect. Myrddin could feel again, when the warm waters washed over him, limbering his joints and soothing his arthritic pain. It was blissful, and a pleasant way to begin a day which would include a lot of walking. Myrddin had been placed on a special quest from the Goddess of the Moon. Myrddin had called on her, rather than the God of the Basin, as her darker magic was what his soul craved. He wished to see again, but not with the same eyes as before; he wished to see deeper, into the very heart of creation. It was the dark love of the Goddess of the Moon who could give him that. Besides, how could a sightless old fool like him, serve this new God, anyways? He wasn't so concerned with the ramifications, as he perhaps should have been.

As he neared the Springs, he scented a mare. Myr's large moose-like ears flicked back for a moment, annoyed that his bathing ritual was to be interrupted. At this time of day, there were normally not many around. But this...Sorcha. his great mind filled in for him, flashing mental images of their brief encounter not so long ago. Smirking slightly, he continued to walk forward, having a fairly accurate mental image of the Basin, and especially the Hot Springs. As he drew close enough that he estimated she must be able to see him, he snorted, blowing warm humid air out of his whiskery nose. "I know you." He said in his sandpapery voice, although there was more warmth in his greeting than anything he had said yet, in his time in the Basin. He liked Sorcha, her fieriness and determination. He remembered the odd barbs on her face, and how she had scoffed at his compliments of her. He also remembered telling her of his ambitions to find a King to advise. And although Psyche was a Queen, he did not share her disdain of female rulers; in fact, her preferred them. And hadn't he fulfilled on his conquest? Was he not here, Haruspex to the Lady Psyche?

His blind milky gaze revealed no emotion; though his large mooselike ears were perked forward, waiting for her to make a noise. If she were to refrain from speaking, he would not be able to place her in his mental construction of the Springs, and would risk bumping into her, or her horns if he entered the water.


[OOC: Rayo, can we just say that Myr and Psyche know each other :P And that the thread that Bluey was going to set up, happened?]

As the barbed mare began to speak, Myrddin sighed gratefully as he plotted her position on his mental map. He didn't like the unknowingness which came with being blind. He nodded his head as she spoke, knitting his wirey brows together as she mentioned the brutality of FrostFall. She spoke truly, he almost hadn't survived. He had grown gaunt and pallid immediately following his unfortunate encounter with Manhattan and Knox. If he hadn't found his way to the Basin, he surely would have succumbed to the cold.

Must say I wonder what sort of God favors ones so violent... As she expressed this cynicism, Myrddin chuckled heartily. Had he laughed since arriving in the Basin? He wasn't sure he had; it did his heart good, being around Sorcha again. "Ay m'dear, but they are just as corrupt and petty as we; just on a much larger scale. Besides, he said, nosing towards the warm water, "this suits me just fine."

He heard the water falling off of her lithe form, and Myrddin was grateful that he remembered what she looked like. He imagined the water staining her patch-work coat, deepening the indentations of her muscular form as it clung to her body. As her soft muzzle brushed his, a pleasurable warmth spread through his old bones. He knew they must be well and truly alone, for the feisty mare to risk such a gesture. Have you lost your sight completely, old boy?" She had asked. The faint smile from her touch, fell from his lips. And although his milky gaze wasn't no longer able to show emotion, if it could, it would have darkened immediately. "Taken." He corrected her, "My sight was taken. By a boy and his dog." When Myr was first blinded, he did not feel as much hate or resentment as one might think. But after the darkness of his situation had well and truly sunk in, after his body had been marred by multiple deep incisions and many more small cuts, the anger had built.

Myrddin listened intently as once again Sorcha argued politics with him. He had learned from their previous encounter that the barbed mare had quite interesting views, and did a fine job of justifying her points. He appreciated that; so many he had met now a-days simply argued with him pointlessly, not really knowing why they held the beliefs that they did, but would stupidly lay down their lives for a cause they couldn't even articulate. I just find the ideal of supremacy to be quite comical. Myrddin chuckled at this, and shook his aged head mirthfully. "Ay little one, but are the rest of them not supremacists in their beliefs? Do they not pass judgement on the Plague, believing that one ought not be a supremacist about race? Which would in term make their normative views equally supremacist in nature." For the first time since being blinded, Myrddin winked. It was rather odd to do, but his muscle-memory had taken over before he even realized. It was an odd sensation, really, feeling his eyelid moving but gauging no difference in light or vision. " The plague is simply more upfront with what they believe, and have decided to act on it. Come what may."

Taken? As Myrddin was about to soothe the anger he heard rising in her voice, by explaining that the Goddess of the Moon was going to aid him in gaining a new-sight, the voice of the Basin Lady herself interrupted their conversation. If Myrddin's gaze was still able to express emotion, it would have brightened at the arrival of his matriarch. He had provided council to many leaders in his long life, but always preferred the females. Their cunning, their ability to manipulate and lie...their sexuality and vigour; certainly they had traits more advantageous than men. And for this one in particular, he simply adored the way that she spoke. His mind vaguely wondered if she had ever encountered Chester? Surely the little would-be cat would have been reminded of a certain queen in particular. Regardless, he did not share Sorcha's feelings that they had been disturbed; it was afterall, Psyche's Basin.

His large ears swivelled to catch her words, grateful for each sound which allowed him to more accurately place the dark mare into his mind-map of the Basin. "Long days and pleasant nights, Lady Psyche" He greeted her formally, although it seemed no one in these lands hailed from his part of the world, as his greeting had never been properly returned. But that mattered little, formalities were what they were.