The entire procession, to Kylmi, felt like hours but could not have been no more than a few dawdling minutes to decide their, potential, ultimate fates. This could have been faulted on the fact that time was still not within her grasp, days could have been years and she wouldn't have realized. The repercussions of longevity combined with a prolonged torture saw to that in malicious detail, and she reflected on that briefly as the Kelpie beneath her stirred at the tumultuous effect of her mirroring empathy. Bleached hooves stomped, cantered, lanky hocks quivering in a rising anticipation of battle as blunted dentures and fangs snapped at any passer by that drifted too close to the Nymph. Some flinched and ushered their horses away, some whinnying their discomfort as the inky, hideous creature bore down upon them with milky eyes and teeth, the bones woven through mane and tail clattering eerily with his fervor. Only when he craned his thin neck around and gnashed his teeth against her plated shin did Kylmi stir from her musings, she hissed much like a tempestuous feline and bared her own simper and kicked his bony, gaunt face.

"Do that again and I'll return you to your mistress as a thorn festooned corpse." To emphasize her threat, dark tines began to writhe against his oily pelt, scraping bone and flesh and tangling deeper through his threads, her claws tugged on the plaits of his mane and directed him back into a straight tread. The Kelpie was still wild by temperament and his stubbornness shown in his random intervals in trying to gallop forward but for the most part he remained sullen and brooding, blowing through his velvet snout to broadcast his agitation. Kylmi smirked at that. 

[i]Then pay attention you wilting plant, the air is rife with enough tension without you adding to it.[/i] 

She did not anticipate its' voice, a horrid sound that was neither feminine or masculine but a mindless droning cadence that was hollow and raspy, as if raked over bones and shards of glass. It was chilling and her body involuntarily shuddered when those peerless orbs seemed to rotate madly within its' hideous face and glare back at her. Thesipha had a sick, twisted sense of humour to make her ride such a [i]thing[/i].

"Do you have a name?" She inquired to him, her fingers woven tightly among slick hair and tangled reeds.

[i]Your kind cannot, would not, be able to pronounce it, not unless you wish to kill everyone here.[/i] Kylmi flinched at the implication, though nearly emotionless and apathetic in tone, the prospect was enough to ward her.

"I'll just call you Bones, then." The Kelpie didn't seem to mind, or care rather, and simply whipped his long, inky tail in response. Which she didn't complain about, one could only receive his voice for so long. Bones did not seem to mind the presence of her Frelseren, but in the company of Tarwin and Mundhir, he was mocking at best: snapping teeth, and resonating a strange click and grating noise somewhere within his throat that vibrated up through Kylmi's legs, she kicked him again. She couldn't imagine how he would face in the line of silver imposing across the hill and once again she glanced up, since they left the ruins she had felt eyes on her, admiration once again of course but also a slight appreciation for the fact she had donned armour rather than sporting nothing but flowers all cleverly placed. Her glassy, peridot eyes briefly glanced back over her bare shoulder, Shorus, as she had come to know by his preference of speech had taken to staring her down across her backside. Her stare flickered away as Bones made a low sound of displeasure, he obviously didn't appreciate attention, unlike she.

Kylmi drifted back into her thought, much to Bone's displeasure but remained silent otherwise. It had been nearly an entire century since had last even attempted to fight and even during their impromptu jailbreak, she had lingered behind and did nothing but be carried out into the light. She questioned her capabilities and tried to recall on memory of battle etiquette when the Prince's timbre broke through her revere. And not for the first time he pulled her from the brink of her darkening subconscious thought process, her stare brightened, lifting by the ascension of her smile that nearly beamed - canines and all. 

"You presume right," Kylmi nearly purred, tipping her antlers donned in the pieces of her headdress and the wink of polished malachite. "I'll show you that and more." She uttered the latter to herself, in which Bones snorted through his nose and bared blunt teeth at Mundhir's choice of words. 

[i]This boy has no idea what he rides next to on that pitiful [b]creature[/b] of his own.[/i]

The Nymph amused Bones with the digging of her stiletto heels, urging him forward when suddenly he reared, lashing out with his bony hooves and if it weren't for her vines and tight grip within his mane, she would've fallen. The sound he made was a deep, stuttering growl that capered off in a peculiar whinny that made her shudder.

"What the hell -"

[i]Look at the creature the Elder Prince rides.[/i] His voice intoned, almost sounding bitter and within awe.

Kylmi's eyes wavered as their own Prince rode to meet the Elderborn, silver plating versus red silk, she did not favour those circumstance one bit, but her attention could only last on them for a second. For the aforementioned beast that Bones was afraid of visibly bothered and worried her, to the point where she stared vacantly with a pained expression creasing her lips and brow in a woeful grimace and disbelief. A pale white stag, being degraded to the services of a mount like a common [i]animal[/i] when it should have been lauded and treated with a regal fanfare. Kylmi's habitual worships from many years ago thrummed within her limbs, but Bone's reluctance to approach any further kept her from beseeching to the pallid bull to who and what it was. The only other snowy creature she knew had been their own and only Cerv Albi and he was nothing more then a festering shade now, or so she thought. Kylmi's heart pained and tightened and the surrounding plant life responded just so, nervously crawling and wavering, bidden by her emotional state and beneath her thighs, Bones stirred and spoke:

[i]It doesn't have a soul.[/i]

The Nymph gaped and tried to keep the Kelpie in place who stomped and twitched nervously, hair whipping across her body when his tail lashed, but she ignored it for the time being save for her small wince. When the Mad Prince mentioned his new queen, it concerned Kylmi beyond reason, he spoke of her with a confidence and arrogance, dismissed the mortal God who she knew nothing of beside his name, but the six foot tall Elderborne seemed reassured by it where as his troops did not share the same reverence. He seemed adamant in facing them in battle and Kylmi prayed, though she didn't know to who now, that the souless beast he rode was not what she thought or what Bones feared. 

When Mundhir turned his horse from the unsuccessful parlay, the Kelpie and Nymph lingered, drawn and distracted by the creature akin to their own long forgotten Lord. If her mother had been there, would she have turned sides in respect of their dead and forlorn God? They were borne and cultivated on tradition, the older Dryads attempting to carry on their rituals and so on into the newer world to preserve their histories, Kylmi had never taken part, had only stayed true to lustful whims and splendors. Now she reflected on those before she and Bones reluctantly turned and followed after the retreating procession. She met the Prince's eyes when they rode up, Bones grinding his fangs and his milky, hollow stare troubled by the yellow shade that bled over the twin orbs. So they were going to fight, Kylmi was both troubled and eager by it, the vines across her hair trembling and cinching tighter around the elaborate mess she had made out of it. Her armour suddenly felt extremely heavy.

She listened to Tarwin, considering his option and glanced her eyes to her Frelseren and back to the others when Bones seemed to laugh, a troubling chortle that vibrated in his thin chest, it was mocking surely and Kymli pulled on his various plaits to silence him, the two working into a spectacle of his cantering irritation and her hisses that snaked down before a screech tore through her throat.

[i]I don't like this, the air tastes peculiar, I don't trust this Prince of yours either.[/i]

Kylmi didn't know what to say to that, and remained contemplative even when the others conversed about their plan. The Mad Prince would die today, but one thing could not be forgotten.

[i]Speak then.[/i]

"[b]I'm troubled by the queen he speaks of, new Gods and such do not rise so suddenly, not without a cause or purpose,[/b]" she began, felidae canines worrying the pout of her lip. Kylmi never showed such habits before, but something unnerved her to the point of fidgeting. "[b]We kill him and lose any sort of information about her, we kill him and a war is ended. But if he speaks true of a new queen, then another will rise in her service, such is the way of histories. Power is a tempting force, we may stave off a massacre but it wouldn't be long until her name would come across us again.[/b]"

Bones threw his head up and down, as if to agree. He was as old, or older than she.

"[b]We could interrogate him,[/b]" she mused aloud, flexing her fingers. "[b]I could try and pry information from him, either way it is as you say, we kill him and the others will disband or rally against us in revenge.[/b]" Vines coiled around her, beckoning. "[b]Capturing him, I believe would yield the same response but we cannot dismiss his queen, I fear it will come back to us tenfold and the beast he rides...[/b]" Her voice faltered dipped into a strange keen.

"[b]There are too many variable here for me to just simple attack and slaughter, not without reservation.[/b]"