The orange witch, Atticus in tow, trotted along the forested mountain path toward the Citadel's cavern, placing one large but feminine hoof before the other, leaving crescent prints behind on the sod below. The white bird upon her fiery spine bobbed up and down with her movements, clutching with all talons, but not too tight as to harm his mistress.

The Empress's violet eyes were looking particularly stern today. She wasn't exactly upset, but she seemed to be expecting something obnoxious to happen. She hung her head a little lower than usual at this trot, letting her long, wavy tresses sway to and fro across her front limbs. The beastess's nares flared open and she took in a few calculative breaths, sampling the air. She rose her head high mid-step and smelled the wind once more. Her brow furrowed. There must be someone up ahead.

"Atticus," the Queen began, "Scout up ahead. I think I smell something." The bird obeyed immediately, taking flight and soaring above the tree line. Nirvana continued along the path at the same pace, watching for the ivory bird to come cascading back down through the foliage to report on who was nearby.