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The silvery hued fae would move with grace that seemed almost unnatural. Her paws moved with such fluidity that her bodice seemed to almost hover, float above the ground, her long languid fur only adding to this visage of a phantom. Silver hued eyes would bore out at the scenery, but would pay it no heed, her broken mind swirled with thoughts and runaway promises. Her mind was her own... well at least as much as was possible to her. The voices in her mind still lingered, still chatted incessantly but they weren't overwhelming, she could tolerate them with ease. They had returned to keeping her company, she loved them when they spoke as they did now.

It had been a month, perhaps a touch more since her pups had joined the earth, and her body had been quick to slim back down, border lining, dancing on the soft end of emaciation. She had scarcely left her pups, she clung to them and they to her. She made sure they imprinted on her and Segar's scent and no one else's. Undeniably protective and quick to temper, she often lay with her steadily growing pups humming or singing softly beneath her breath. They were beautiful, the most perfect thing her twisted mind could drum up, and Segar seemed to agree.

But late the previous night, she had found Segar, has asked him to watch the pups for a few days at the most, there was a friend she had needed to see, a friend that had probably saved her life and those of the unborn pups. She had not told him who or where she was going, but she had asked for her trust and despite his soft but rightful hesitation, he had agreed, and like her namesake... she had vanished. The pups were beginning to nibble upon meat they could live without her milk, Segar would guard them with everything he was she was certain. Her journey had taken her well through the night and well into the morning. The sun rose high above the earth by the time she had reached her destination. A piece of her wanted to glide through the territory and surprise the Queen, but respect and dignity would need to be shown here, not everyone would be as loving and gentle, so with a soft sigh and a restful movement to sit upon her haunches, she careened her throat back, maw pointed to the heavens. Lyrics calling in a loving tone for the dire wolf, her name sung into the air with gentle adoration. Newt.