Falk looks amused. "It seems winter is up to something..." Though he inclines his head ever so slightly. "Do it well and fair. I have other matters to attend to." With a rush of wind light is blotted from the sky momentarily, before blooming forth once more. Of all the Kings, Falk was the most dramatic. The light bathed the empty place he stood as he now sat once more upon the bone throne and watched the doors of his halls and the deep pool that acted as ever a servant to him. However a breeze rushed by the Irish woman's ears carrying his words, lowly spoken. "[i]Turn to Fae, Aisling Ni Chealleighe. Ye have yet to serve yon purpose."[/i]

Aisling's shoulders slumped at the command. Her defeat evident in her eyes. "Do what you will, Summer pixie." She snarled. "I have little to quarrel with." Fiery rage and shame burned through her blood as her mouth spoke in anger. Cheeks flushed and eyes shone in defiance at this King. He would have to turn her and she was not in the mood to make it easy. Aisling was not one to make it easy for any who dared to try and change her being and this one was about to learn that!