[ OOC: I've totally had this written for two days. All I can say is ugh, Mediacom and their stupidness. ]

Illynx's sculpted face turned to gaze upon that which was intruding upon the quiet of her sea vigil, finding a rather beautiful and smiling mare arriving along-side her. The other woman smelled of the Basin, a scent that made the smile mimic itself upon the golden laced femme's features despite herself; she enjoyed finding her herd-mates out and in the wilds, not holed up alongside the lake, and also rather enjoyed getting to know each of them. This particular mare she had seen before, a pristine white with a large set of antlers sprouting from around her ears, a red pendant hanging loosely about her neck; she eyed the antlers with a bit of a soreness, not sure whether this one was truly a "unicorn," not just an over sized buck, but curbed her tongue; Psyche permitted her ilk within the Basin, that was justification enough. When the two had met previously there had been no where near as much time to wonder about her horn arrangements and many more faces with which to keep in mind, including that of Mauja, their mutual king; Illynx had found this one to be particularly bright and cheerful among their group that afternoon, her personality as innocent then as the pure tint of her coat, though her name escaped her grasp. Her face now read that she still exuded joy in amounts large enough to make the cocoa femme gag but also that life had hardened her, as it had hardened them all; such was the way of ice, creeping over the memories of a home that they had been forced to abandon, eating away at mortal bodies to leave behind white and faded bones, soon to be crushed back into dust or swallowed whole by drifts of snow and earth.

It was not all bad, though, for even Illynx had to stand in awe of just how well life had turned out in the end, despite all her attempts to assume that it would be otherwise. It still was no field of spring flowers, but she could deal with that if it meant that slowly, over time, her heart would plug up that damn hole Mirage had punched through it, where it was already weakened by her childhood. At least, through some chance miracle, the silhouette of her oldest friend in all the world was still outlined in the center of that hole, a humorous image of the Lady Psyche with limbs spread wide attempting to block out the streams of luminescence that bled through the wounds drawn to mind whenever Illynx dared to think about the state of her soul; it was not often, and Arah's words would mean not now.

It was small talk, the mare holding one ear in alert for whatever the white mare had to say, the other tilting back mildly in annoyance. But what else were two strangers supposed to talk about? The blasphemous fires consuming the trees in the Edge, a sight that surely they both had seen on their path to the beach, or perhaps that Illynx was a traitor, a coward, a sheep wearing a metal cover, who had fled Helovia and her kin when they needed her most? No. Neither sounded all that pleasant of conversation topics, and both would strike that dreamy little smile off of Arah's face, and so the Corporal metaphorically dusted herself off and attempted to begin a conversation - until another voice drew her eyes away, her lips slightly parted for the words that literally died and attempted to choke her as what had spoken fell into her sights.

A wolf. No. A horse... Her golden orbs darted to and fro across the strange beast's face, her gaze drifting back to that of Arah in an attempt to make sure that she saw the... the... mongrel as well. Her ears, she realized, had automatically made it flat among the dark tendrils of her mane, her tail held lightly aloof and limbs prepared to get the hell out if need be, though to her credit, the warrior mare remained stationary in the face of such hideous danger; the creature, she was not sure if she could call him truly equine or not, was devastatingly tall, an attribute that on many others Illynx would have found handsome and very desirable, but it made this one seem all the more freakishly grotesque to her, from his velveteen ears that were far too fluffy even for the winter season to the paws upon his limbs where hooves should have been. Slowly, Illynx bid her mouth to close, a wad of saliva swallowed down a tight throat as she let her heart ease itself back down to a normal rate, spying only now the black dragon that was curled up in the shabby excuse for a mane that this creature had, and another wave of tension threatened to swallow the unicorn whole.

Perhaps this was one of the terrible doppelgangers that Psyche had mentioned? But no, they were simply mirror-folk, this... she had never seen anything like this for it to be mimed, and the thought that she had been daft enough to wander down from the mountains when not only one of these creatures walked the realm, but two made her feel a sudden urge to gallop as quickly as her hooves would carry her back up the mountain. "Y...you..." she stammered, her eyes flickering back to Arah, her well natured companion liable to be little help in easing or assisting the growing ache within Illynx to charge and murder the wolf-horse, a not-so-wise plan even to the deep brown mare, still unsure of the limitations of this one's power. Bloody Helovia, was all she could think, her words struggling to issue themselves from her mouth, "what in the Gods' names are you?" The politeness with which the wolf-stallion had entered the conversation was entirely forgotten in the midst of him being, well, himself, and Illynx entirely forgot her own manners when speaking to him - though she quickly caught herself, she knew that the game of pretending to be a charming and lady-like unicorn such as many of the others she had met had been pitched out a metaphorical window by this point. And so, rather than back track, she forged on. "And how in the name of the Moon did you accomplish getting a drake?" she queried, a small bit of confidence eking its way into her voice and composure, "Surely the equine and dragon-folk across Helovia mourn for your dear friend's misfortune, to have been hatched by a hound."

The words were said lightly, with a bounce of amusement added in to try and alleviate the harshness of her words. While she did not desire a battle here upon this frigid beach, she did want the beast to know that she was not happy with this encounter, and that, regardless of how he carried himself about her from now until the crumbling of the world, he was a monster. But still, as she looked upon him, she found herself remembering once more the dream of the wolf, and the cold stream from which they both had drank, and suddenly her ire had having been both startled and horrified by the stranger slipped down on the magnitude scale; a curious glow replaced the vengeance that had burned in her eyes before, her cranium tilted slightly to observe the shaggy fur that clung to the lower half of the animal, the way the russets and creams blended together to make a marble like pattern among themselves. She had never seen a real wolf this close, much less a beast of two breeds, such as this one. "Do you have a calling, hound and wyvern?" she asked, actually interested in his answer, her own title rolling off of her tongue next, eyes looking from the white mare to the wolf-like male in turn, "I am Illynx, one of the Corporals of the Basin."