Once, the cool air of the North had turned her blood to ice and left her desperate for warmth. Desperate enough to turn to the idiot stallion Valentine, pressing her bodice against his in the most primal desire for shared body heat. It had worked - she had grown warmer - and for a time she had been granted his undying loyalty. She had converted him to racism, or so she had thought. But when the truth came out, when she admitted that she did not care for him, she learned the most brutal truth of all. Stallions, she had concluded then, were all liars. They said all these lovely, pretty things to gain your trust, but if you did not do as they wanted you to, they threw it all back in your face. He had left, or been cast out, she could not truthfully say which, and he had gone somewhere else. She had heard tell that he no longer sought only the company of unicorns. The shade hoped that she would meet him again one day, so that she might tear his throat out.

As it were, he was not in the Basin that day, and the cold did not affect her anymore as it once had. Her pelt had grown thicker, and though it was not shaggy, it hung a bit longer from her bodice, providing a barrier against the arctic winds. It was not particularly cold inside her borders - in fact, the Tallsun weather had made it almost pleasant - but on the outskirts of her land, there was little in the way of protection. Mountains made up the majority of her borders, but the pass that led into the Frostbreath Steppe was a funnel for the chilled winds of the tundra. Snow lingered there still, growing heavier as she ventured forth. Her lands had blossomed into a dim, wintery green - it was summer here, though it was a different summer than they faced in the south.

It made them stronger, living in such conditions. When they attacked in force - and they would, one day - they would be the better for having suffered through such harshness. Frostfall would be the best time for them, used to the cold as they were. The other herds would be scrambling, shivering in the frigid winds; she alone would stand tall, shrieking a battle cry, crushing the enemies that were foolish enough to fight her. Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of voices. Able to, for a moment, listen to the conversation, she was able to place the vocals of Nisa, the polar bear that had accepted the shade's invitation to stay in the Basin. She had a deep respect for the predator, one that she intended to continue showing. A bear could be a valuable ally, and she would need all she could get. "Well, hello, darling," her lyrics rang out as she emerged casually from a clump of trees.

As she looked the newcomer over, she greeted her ally. "Nisa, dearest, it's ever so lovely to see you. I do hope you are well." Ignita was a dark mare, with no particular smell about her to mark her as belonging to a herd. She was a unicorn, with a spiraling, glassy horn. Everything about her spoke of darkness, and the Empress was intrigued. "Ignita, I believe you said?" she verified, then continued. "My name is Psyche the Dark Empress, the Lady of the Aurora Basin. You have my audience, and you may speak freely in front of Nisa. What is your purpose here?" Her vocals were cool, but they were not abrasive or cold as they might have been with an inferior. Instead, it spoke of a patience as she waited to hear the mare out.

"Talk talk talk."

The bow of her head did several things for the shadow-mare: it showed respect, which was of course the most important thing. But it also showed weakness. Here was a 'leader' of an assassin group, addressing the Lady of the Basin. By virtue of her rank, she did not have to wallow before the Empress, and yet here she was, acting as though she wanted acceptance into the ranks of the Basin! The shade kept her facade wiped clean, though scoffing remarks colored her thoughts. Still, she would hear the fae out; she could never have enough information. Besides, what if she even had a good plan? It was doubtful, sure - but what if? And what if her plans gave the shadow-mare something that she wanted? Surely there would be no harm in hearing her out.

"The Assassins," she murmured softly, as though turning the name over on her tongue. She wanted desperately to make some cutting remark about how she had yet to hear of their prestigious group, but she held it in. After all, the fae had said something about the Edge. What it would mean to get revenge on the Qian! Even those who were not of the Plague would advocate that particular battle. And she had her own reasons for wanting to see them fall. "Forgive my saying so, my dear," she continued finally, "but I'm afraid I haven't heard of you. Now, either that means that you are very good at keeping your existence a secret, or you are very small. Which is it?"

"Talk talk talk."

Trust was not something that came easily to the Dark Empress. Perhaps one could blame her rather traumatic upbringing; perhaps it was simply in her nature. Nature or nurture, she chose not to trust what she had no proof of, and so this mare’s presence did not inspire any real belief in her. What reason had she to believe that Ignita had any significant band? Why should the Lady of the Basin believe that she had the power to overtake the Edge? Of course she would love to deal a breaking blow to the Qian. They had taken her home from her, forced them into the Steppe. Indirectly, they were responsible for the disappearance of her king. She would love revenge.

You can’t get revenge and keep a spotless reputation, but it was not something to rush headlong into, either. Many great individuals had been undone by a hasty attempt at vengeance, and she did not intend to be one of them. But this mare’s proposition came with many things to consider. If she was not telling the truth, the shade could turn her down and not give it a second thought; but if she was and she was turned away, it was very possible that an Assassin might show up to show their displeasure. While the jackal did not fear any advances that they might make, she did not wish to draw attention to the Basin, not when their own secret organization was hard at work.

And still more possibilities existed. She could pledge their help, though it certainly would not gain her any love among her followers. Perhaps if the Assassin band was comprised of only unicorns, she could convince them, but somehow she knew this would not be the case. Again, she was left to wonder what had possessed Ignita to approach her with such a proposition. Were there other ways to turn this situation to her advantage? Perhaps. That would be a question for her trusted advisors, and one she would address later.

Ignita spoke again, as though the shade’s questions had been expected. The Empress had expected no less. And she promised anything, anything at all. Was that a risk that the shadow-mare was willing to take? Would the Assassin follow through? She knew that if their places were reversed, she might not. Trust, as you know, was hard to gain from the Lady. ”You make fair points, darling, but I still cannot simply pledge warriors when I don’t even know your numbers, nor how long you will take to be in a position to attack,” she pointed out. ”I simply cannot give you an answer today. I need to discuss your offer with my General, and I need a timeframe. I will not say no - I’m sure that you know how much fun revenge would be for us – but I cannot in good conscience say yes, either.”

[OOC | Sorry for the very long wait. This got lost in the mix somehow. >.>]

"Talk talk talk."