illynx,

She realized shortly after her enraged horn assaults were unleashed that her legs were becoming rather severely bruised and battered from the knee down from the rushing tumble of stones, parts of her golden hair sheared straight from the flesh, leaving slick patches of yellow tinted flesh exposed to the still chilly spring air and aching with each passing inch. It had been a good while since she'd taken a ride down a tumbling bunch of rocks, and the mass that the pale faced wench had unleashed was by far the closest thing to an avalanche that Illynx had ever encountered. It would not deter her from her course, however; one look down at her stone mount, once beautiful in its treacherous grace, and the one who had brought it all down was enough to keep her focus. Cold, colder than the ice that seemed to glisten upon every surface of the Basin, her golden eyes flashed in the darkness, struggling to hold fast to the shadow that was the intruder, the cause of all the mayhem that rushed beneath her gilded limbs. Satisfaction coursed through her just as the pain of the rocks smashing against her legs had nearly made the game not worth it, her sword having plunged deep into flesh.

The scream of the woman was more invigorating than the heat of her blood as it rolled down the golden spire; yet just as quickly as the lust of her blade had been sated, the prey was gone. Knowing such a wound wouldn't allow the mare to get far, Illynx wondered as to her tactic; the cougar had already proven that she was not an honorable sort, having attempted to bring a whole hill down on her head, and the abrupt change of position had made the distrustful warrior wary of more tricks. The thunk of hooves on wood quickly drew the Lady's eyes to the source of the sound, the shadow that hovered upon the long dead tree. Her haunches lower under her slender and graceful frame, hind-hooves digging hard into the moving earth to slow her rate of speed, slowly earning her traction as her front legs plunged downwards to direct her motion. Grit stained her teeth, that she had not known she had exposed in a savage snarl, her narrowed gaze locked once more upon the silhouette on the trunk that seemed to hover on the surface of the settling rock.

For a moment, it was only the song of the rocks coming to rest once more that filled her ears, the quiet hiss of dust emerging from slits in between the stones and the thuds of her own heart filling the spaces in between her deep breaths. Perhaps the mare would turn and run, to which Illynx would gladly give chase; her ears lay back upon her delicate features as she watched the shape atop the fallen tree much like a hawk observing a mouse. But then, much to the brindle's surprise, the intruder spoke.

Her laughter is rude and brittle in the darkness, a stream of notes that mocks the bleeding woman. "Speak?" she giggled breathlessly, taking a prowling and tentative step nearer the form of the upturned roots, "After you've tried to kill me with my own mountain?" Though she knew she had never given the wench a chance to speak, she still found her request to be laughable. After all, she had found the stranger well within their borders and without an invitation or escort, and she was rather convinced that the idea of talking had only crossed this mare's mind after equine blood had begun to stain the earth.

Still, there was a chance that she did indeed have something worth knowing, and Illynx was the sort to lend an ear to potentially useful gossip. Her features contorted into a strange mask, a blend of disgust and intrigue, her brain wrestling with its primal urge to rip this one's heart from her chest and the sensible desire to better the cause of the Plague and her people. "You cannot run, at least not faster than I or our patrols," she cooed from the dusty shadow, reason having won the battle for once, "and so I surely hope that what you have to say is worth more to me than a pretty new skull for my entryway." She paused, glancing out across the picturesque (albeit slightly obscured) view of the Basin, hoping even as she spoke the words that someone had noticed the cloud of dust rising from the entrance and was waiting in the darkness to provide truth to her threat. "Quickly now, before I change my mind, darling."

intending to burn - pretending to fight it
everyone learns faster on fire