The air cooled suddenly, like stepping inside a walk-in freezer. The rain that had been falling in gentle sheets turned to sleet that settled into unappetising lumps of slush. The darkness of the evening seemed to draw in even closer as a lithe figure stepped out of the shadow of the Wheel. She wore a gown of blue goassamer silk that gently hugged her form and trailed behind her, staying dry and perfect despite the slush she was wading through. She had the usual supernatural beauty of the fae, an aquiline nose on a flawless face that was at once perfect and slightly terrifying, graced with catlike eyes of a deep maroon.<br/><br/>"Dear Cat," the Winter Sidhe said as she moved across the open space as though gliding on ice. "I am Ysabelle, Duchess of Winter. Such a pleasure to meet thee at long last, even if I had need to summon thee here with a messenger of the Wyld Fae,"<br/><br/>She walked around N'emea in a great circle, swishing the changing blue hue of her silk behind her, flicking up slush. Her hair hung down in white rivulets, decorated with  dangling icicles that looked like crystal, woven into her locks. She finished appraising her, and then turned her back with a tut. She flicked her head back to gaze at the catgirl with eyes that blazed like fire.<br/><br/>"Thou art most beautiful for a creature that chooses to dwell with mortals," Ysabelle drawled. "It has been many months since thee entered my city, dear Cat, and thou hast not visited mine court in that time. I understand the fickle nature of the Wyld, do not misunderstand me, but manners are important even amongst your kind. Thy rudeness places thee within mine debt. And I wouldst ask a favour of thee,"