Autumn had arrived, pairing cold winds with the unchanging marks of the season upon the Sylvan forest. Moving purposefully within the fold of trees, weaving through the labyrinth of trees and stumps. She was queen now and, with her newfound role, she desired to produce strong heirs. Although immortality had only recently attached itself to her, it was her mission to ensure that, should misfortune befall her, Sylva’s strength would not fail. With Mortem as their father, their legacies as rulers would be impenetrable.
 
Following the trail of his scent she felt the warmth of her heat upon her legs. Her body was ready to accept his seed. Theirs would be a glorious union and, together, they would raise up their children from the pits of hell itself. Breaking through the underbrush she spotted the black pelted stallion and strode confidently forward.
 
Hello, my king, she purred as she used her tail to flick the sweet scent of her towards him.