Night finally settled upon the gayly lit little village, the very presence of guests was enough to thrill the usually sleepy settlement. Her people, after all, were so rarely touched by the outside world, at least not like this. She had watched at a distance in vague intrigue as those hours wore on, the sounds of their voices echoed across the quiet, uninterrupted plains, drawn to the unicorn by the sweet embrace of the wind. The rich laughter upon their lips, those foreign accents so out of place in comparison to what Aislinn was used to...and yet...it only further strove to stroke the flames of her curiosity. She knew he was there. She had seen him thundering across the plains, his muscular form sculpted to perfection as each feathered foot fell with confidence - as if he had known all along that his victory was inevitable. To any mere mare, his triumphant win should have been tantalizing - him, the pinnacle of perfection of the equine species. But she was no mere mare and he was no mere stallion. Or at least...he hadn't been...once. Aislinn was certain she had seen him, up there in the sky. He had been no more than a mere dot floating amongst the darkened backdrop of the stormy clouds, many, she was certain, would have overlooked him. But not Aislinn. At least, that is to say, she had accidentally glanced up at the sky right at the moment that once small dot had begun to descend. And then she had stared at it - long and hard till he had come into view. A shining, white, magnificent stallion with large feathery expansive wings. How rare they were.

She had watched him, from the comfortable shade of the pathetic forest she'd taken residence within. Across the plains, with little to interrupt her view, she had watched him land with those large appendages - a rider on his back, of all the things! She had only been distracted for one single moment, (thanks largely to a hare that had decided it had to have the blade of grass she was standing on), only for those beautiful wings to disappear the moment her attention had turned back to him! She had considered, briefly, that perhaps his rider had taken them. Mortals could be villians when it came to the fantasticness of mythical creatures they thought only existed in fairy tales. But...there was no scent of blood on the wind and still...the winged creature still let him ride. It was a fascinating puzzle, one Aislinn had every intention of exploring in depths - as soon as that cheery village from some splendance of sleep.

It had taken hours before the lights had finally dimmed and a sweet rare tranquility settled over the vast, quiet plains. This was by far her preferred hour of the day, when the moon was high and cast her ethereal glow upon an undeserving world. A soft puff of air left her nose as Aislinn stepped out into the moonlight, her pure ivory hide seemed to glisten within it's gentle embrace. Her head was held high with an unwavering dignity, her ears forward and alert to the slightest rustling of noise within the small town as she climbed the hill upwards and towards the six carefully placed tents that surrounded the village's yurts. Her footfalls were unlikely to be noticed, what with the sheer number of horses tied ever so neatly here and there. Frankly, Aislinn preferred to keep it that way. Her very presence so tended to create a sort of chaos within her wake - in both horse and human alike. She passed behind the first yurt with ease, only to pause and tentatively snake her head out and around the edge - the glacier hue of her gaze intent upon the silent, dozing stallion. There he stood - his coat marred from the rain and mud and yet, what stood out most of all, was that he was definitely wingless. A soft snort of frustration left her nose, the mere sound enough to cause the mare closest to her to open her eyes, only to stare wide-eyed at the horned equine as if the poor thing had never considered a horse with a horn. Typical. Aislinn offered the mare a hard stare, as if daring her to react before she stepped forward, carefully moving behind another tent to creep closer towards the horse that had truly caught her attention.

The stallion tied at the far end of the camp had seemingly caught Aislinn's scent as she moved upwind from tent to tent - his once peaceful dozing now a thing of the past as he shifted almost restlessly at the end of his rope. The ivory maiden, however, hardly seemed to notice as she crept behind the very tent that belonged to her stallion's rider. How...peculiar. The horse hardly seemed...abnormal in any sense, even this close, beyond of course his size but he was hardly the first of his breed Aislinn had come across. Slowly, she stepped around the side of the tent, her nose slowly descended to the tent's zipper in vague curiosity of what sort of man rode the steed whom she was now beginning to doubt had wings at all! A soft, low nicker came from the far end of the camp - the Mongolian horse had seemingly noticed her and yet, he was far less interesting then the zipper she was content to cautiously nose at.