The wind from the strike of Nidic's blade ghosted over Rilana's neck and shoulder, and her throat bobbed as she swallowed down the fear that had accompanied the man's charge. His hot, sour breath filled her nostrils and she lifted her eyes to meet his fierce glare with an icy stare of her own, her pink lips pressed into a thin line. She was not impressed by his display, and more she was furious at Lord Knight Svarak, for he was the one behind this ridiculous display. What a way to treat a visitor! The indignancy burned, but Rilana was determined to remain calm and cordial where those like Sergeant Nidic had failed to do so.

Somewhere within, Khona was having a nearly incomprehensible temper tantrum, begging his mistress to let him out and show Nidic a proper fight. Rilana's shoulder-blades tingled like tiny pinpricks of hail striking her pale skin as Khona's Mark writhed across her flesh. One of these days she would need to find a mirror to see what it looked like.

Nidic's sword slid back into its sheath and Rilana inclined her head. [color=00aeef]"Fortunately I seem to have many things with which to occupy my time, Knight."[/color] He hadn't had the courtesy to introduce himself, and she was unfamiliar with any of the ways she might distinguish his rank, but calling him 'human' seemed only likely to provoke him. She had absolutely no intention of sparring with this man, or any knight.

When the were-cat spun, Rilana enjoyed a moment to breathe deeply and smooth the front of her traveling clothes, letting herself relax briefly before striding after him. Most of her garb was the soft pale leather and light brown fur of reindeer hide, common among her people and well-fitted enough to flatter her shape. She had dispensed with her cloak in these warm lands, but hadn't been given the chance to stop and change into something more fitting for a meeting with some high Lord Knight.

Following Nidic, Rilana didn't know what to make of the chuckles from the other knights. It seemed that they were likely laughing at her for being too cowardly to fight the Sergeant, and while she didn't like being thought of as a weakling, at least she hadn't let herself get drawn up in some pointless barbaric duel. Her opinion of Nidic soured further when he struck his laughing comrades down, flinging them dangerously through a crowd of innocent people. The man was either arrogant or fool-hardy or both.

Consigning herself to the long trek to the Citadel, Rilana found no interest in the parts of the city she saw until they reached the immense stable. A look of approval crossed her face, at least these people treated their mounts well, but she stopped short when she noticed the familiar face of a certain Fjord horse.

[color=00aeef]"Oh...!"[/color] The word was soft, almost soundless, inspiring far more emotion than an incoming longsword at her neck had done, and she lifted her hands as she stepped forward towards Bruin, reaching to touch his soft muzzle and warm cheek. [color=00aeef]"Can it be you?"[/color] The words passed her lips even though it could have only been Bruin.

An awed glance at Nidic, [color=00aeef]"I hadn't thought I'd ever see him again."[/color] [b][i]Envoy.[/i][/b] There was that word, that title, again. Rilana stepped up nimbly into the saddle and moved Bruin to follow Nidic, leaving the reins across the horn of the saddle so that she could steer him with only her knees. She felt a flutter of satisfaction and pride in that the beast remembered his training, and was relieved that at least in the weeks since she had seen him he appeared to be hale and hearty.

The journey on horseback proved to be somewhat nerve-wracking. Rilana doubted she would ever get used to being stared at, and had a difficult time deciding if the faces she passed were full of simple curiosity or open dislike. Once inside the doors of the Citadel, Rilana found herself looking at a structure that had been built from the ground up to be completely isolated from the world outside and still survive. Humans here had created something that stone and ice had done for Frigmount long ago. Certainly there were secret ways to infiltrate the Moon Fey city if trouble came, but it would not be easy.

As they wound their way through the city, a white bird trailed along, floating on the breeze some distance back. It did not enter the Citadel, but alighted on the wall and waited, preening its feathers and keeping a watchful eye out for any bored watchmen eager for target practice.

Rilana was reluctant to leave Bruin after such a brief reunion, but patted his neck farewell to follow Nidic up the infinite steps.

[i][color=fff200]Let me out and I'll fly you to the top![/color][/i]

It was not an easy climb. And at one point she slipped after setting her foot wrong on the next step, stumbling and striking her knee painfully on the dark stone. But she didn't cry out, and after pausing long enough for the first bite of pain to ebb away, she continued in Nidic's wake, her face stoic, though her pale cheekbones burned brightly.

The inside of Svarak's office seemed dim after the brightness of climbing the outside of the tower, and Rilana blinked and reached up to tuck an errant tendril of hair behind her ear as her vision adjusted, eyeing the squire before finally turning to observe the Lord Knight himself. Perhaps it was the turmoil of the day that had dampened her spirits somewhat, but Svarak wasn't nearly as impressive today as the day she had met him. Thankfully Kona was silent about the way her belly tightened as she looked at him. And she was saved from stumbling over her words by the Charr launching into a speech of his own.

Somewhere in the middle of his explanation for her summons here, Rilana took it upon herself to sit down on the edge of his desk, crossing one long leg over the other. It seemed unlikely that an invitation would be forthcoming, but the Moon Fey woman had had enough. She was tired, she had hurts that had not yet healed, and she saw no reason to remain on her feet. She pulled the slightly squirming satchel into her lap and folded her hands across the top of it, listening attentively, though the occasional half-masked scowl disturbed her porcelain features.

There was a long pause when he finished speaking, as though she was expecting something more. When she did speak, her irritation was evident in her face, though she kept a civil tongue and tone in her reply.

[color=00aeef]"I'm honoured that you would think of me for this task, Lord Knight Svarak, though it occurs to me that it might not be within my authority to accept. I am not sure that my own people would appreciate their Envoy to Ebonfort being selected by you on their behalf."[/color] By which of course she meant that she didn't appreciate it either. [color=00aeef]"As I'm sure you are well aware, I was sent only to deliver a single horse, not to represent my people in any official capacity. It might happen that my Elders reject your choice and select someone far better than me to fill the roll as Ambassador."[/color]

She paused to breathe then, lowering her eyes for a moment from the face she found simultaneously alluring and intimidating, summoning up some reserve of inner strength to keep going. [color=00aeef]"It also occurs to me that it seems to have been quite a long time since on of my kin has appeared in the South in any capacity."[/color] An oddity with which she didn't doubt he knew something about. [color=00aeef]"So this is not a refusal. I can not accept the title you give me because frankly, I do not think it is yours to give. But I would be willing to lead your delegation through the Frostfell and back, if only in the interest of preventing loss of life and reopening the road between our peoples."[/color]

The baby balauradon offered a muffled grumbling and shifted about in the sack.

[color=00aeef]"If you find that arrangement agreeable, I ask only that you instruct your knights to respect my instructions on the way. The Frostfell is more dangerous than you know."[/color] Something blue and sparkling caught her attention and she tilted her head slightly glance briefly at the crystalline sword the Charr had carried on the tourney grounds. [color=00aeef]"Or perhaps not."[/color]

[Word count: 4321/50k lol ]