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The white dragon flashed an image to her bondmate, a screech splitting the air. coming towards them, with what seemed like purpose, was a white filly tapered in golden filigree. Abraham smirked, changing his direction just slightly to match the path of the oncoming girl. Together he and the stranger closed the distance, and Abraham was able to come to a stop. Mismatched eyes narrowed darkly and his proud head rose on his thick neck, mane flapping in the wind, his amulets weighing it down some as they slapped against hard muscle. He inspected her, up and down, side to side, letting the curves of her delicate body give him internal direction. His initial thoughts were smashed, however, when she lashed towards him with her silver tongue. A rough snort left Abraham's throat, creating a white cloud from his flared nostrils. How dare she speak to him in such a manner. A guttural growl lifted from Abraham's throat and the darkling prince took a step forward, chin tucking some. His twin horns glistened in the bright sunlight, the rays dancing eagerly on his dangerous weapons. "You have some nerve for a delicate girl." The words are laced with venom, his voice dangerously slick and vile.
Abraham took another step forward, but turned his strong, growing body to the left of the golden girl. He half-circled her, eyes still wandering over her frame. She was young, too young to claim in the most primal of ways, surely, even if his desires swung towards that form of debauchery. Her weakness from age, however, Abraham would capitalize on. Smirking, the demon boy spoke again. "Where I come from, weaklings who speak out of turn have their tongue removed." The words were still harsh, though their truthfulness was not something to be desired. He had never removed the tongue of an opponent, but the last one to cross him was bathed in the hellfire from his dragon's belly, and the fool before him was six feet under, nothing but a forgotten memory to this realm. Another snort left Abraham before he lowered his horn and suddenly surged towards the filly, aiming to slice his dual weapons across her left flank.
As Abraham surged to her left in an attempt to cut her flank, Gwyneverre came rocketing out of the sky on the right side of the girl, but more towards her front. White fire erupted from draconian jaws, the white companion's chest burning a deep, fiery color from the inside out. The color matched her pyre eyes, which danced with wild bloodlust and malice in this moment. The fire was a short burst, an attempt at creating a wall to trap the filly. She did not want the lithe, young girl to flee from her master's attack. Gwyneverre wanted to see blood today, wanted to see this small filly sprawled in the snow, soaking in shame and regret. She will rue day. Gwyneverre hissed to Abraham, just as the older colt swung a sharp front hoof towards Arwen's left hock. Holy water cannot help you now
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
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Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
