The seconds that pass between the last syllable of her command and the boy's movement seem to stretch on forever. In those moments the girl doubts that Volterra is anything but naive and childish. Will she really have to explain to him the necessity of what she has just done, and what she has asked him to do? Could he really have named his dragon after blood and then shy away when she commands that he bring it forward? How could he be bonded to such a primal and strong creature, and yet be so weak and pathetic? All of these fears and tentative emotions bubble up inside her, somewhere in her chest, but are almost immediately doused by confirmation.

No, none of that is required. He does understand. And oddly, the girl is thankful and pleased. She has not been around anyone that she has met more than once, not including her herd. Everyone else she has just sort of crossed paths with, and then avoided. Volterra strikes her as being different in a way that she can't quite articulate, and deep inside she is glad that he has come through this almost-test with flying colours.

His larger hooves make quick work of the mother, and his dragon immediately follows in his wake to absorb what it can from the now-dead creatures.

The girl meets Volterra's gaze and searches it. She is not bothered by social custom which dictates that holding a stare for too long can be awkward or rude. Instead, she fills herself with his ruby gaze as he asks her what they are to do now. Isn't it obvious? She thinks, internally amused. He is so strong, and yet he follows so quickly. He did what she asked of him every step of the way, and even now follows her guidance. Is it because he sees the logic in what she says? Or because he is following the command of a demi-god? Part of her, some secret and never thought of hidden part wonders what he thinks of her. All this she tries to see in his eyes. Her masked face is severe and unreadable, as her golden gaze wavers back and forth between her silent questions.

"We finish this." She finally concludes, breaking the stare and the odd rush of warmth that has come to her face. The girl dismisses it as merely a response to the heat all around them. Turning her head, she flicks her ears for a moment, collecting the sounds of the dying all around them.

Mercilessly she moves through the burned area, her eyes looking midst the earth that Volterra has uprooted for signs of those who can be saved. She finds none, only lives that are in pain. Silently the girl tallies those dead and dying, attributing this fire ultimately to the Moon Goddess. It isn't blame that she feels - it is more like a mental scorecard which she will remember. The scales must stay balanced. Such is her birthright and her obligation.

Coming upon a rabbit, the girl lowers her head for a moment sniffing the creature. It smells of blood although the girl can see little. Likely it is bleeding within. Without another thought the girl raises a hoof and swiftly puts the creature out of its misery. The breaking of its bones brings a small smile to her lips; it is now free.