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 a voice - it was unfamiliar, and she pushed her pace into a trot. Emerging from a clump of trees, she saw a snowy femme with the smell of grass and sunshine on her - Foothills. What in the world was she doing here? Immediately, the Lady's wariness of the situation heightened. Still, her gait was casual as she strolled into view.

The stallion that was present had the smell of her herd on him, though she couldn't say that she had met him. Perhaps he was a new recruit. Regardless, he spoke to the mare kindly - perhaps too kindly when they did not know what her purpose was. She would have to teach him. "Yes," she agreed with the brute's words. "You blend in very well, darling." Her voice was cheerful, welcoming, but her amber gaze was cool and calculating. "You are not from here, my dear. What is your purpose here?"

"Talk talk talk."

The stallion was one of hers, and yet she did not know him. Still, as he looked her over, she could see the respect grow in his orbs, and she appreciated this small gesture. When he introduced himself, she favored him with a slight nod. "I can see that my darlings picked well when they chose to bring you here, Crash. Welcome." With that out of the way, she was able to focus her attention on Nadira. The young white fae had bowed her head with respect, and the shadow-mare's suspicion began to fade. There was nothing threatening about this mare's presence, though whether or not she would be allowed to stay was another story.

Her words were vague, but they intrigued the shadow-mare nonetheless. "More of us," she had said. Did she mean more unicorns? Had she settled in the Foothills, not knowing that the Basin existed? It was possible, she supposed. Even so, what use had she for one who accepted that lifestyle? And did her words mark her as racist? Would she be useful in that regard? It was the venom at the end of her words that made up the jackal's mind. "Nadira, my dear, I wouldn't think of turning away a fellow unicorn in need," she said sweetly, the wheels in her mind turning quickly. "Crash, darling, I do believe that Nadira and I have a few things to sort out regarding her rank. I believe we shall take a walk. Do be a dear and keep watch, won't you? Nadira, walk with me, darling." And with that, she waltzed out of the Basin.

[OOC | Psyche departs, to talk with Nadira alone.]

"Talk talk talk."