The Dauntless was not lost. He had not abandoned his post, lost himself in the wilderness as he once had. No. Not at all. Archibald was waiting, patrolling and searching, mind churning with the plans he would make known when the time was wholly right. Kaj, such an emotionally deterred man, controlled by the tickle of his heart and the breathe in his lungs was too-fragile. Had Archibald not assured him of his loyalty and drive for this herd, this family? Had Archibald not opened the floodgates for growth and possibility to flourish here, in this bramble-filled land once more? Perhaps he and Kaj needed to speak again, for Archibald to give the other Czar his simple words: take heart, Stormbringer.

Archibald and Loretta moved towards the pillar of light that burst from their borders. Massive hooves and paws made the earth tremble with the sheer might of their natural force, and Archibald and his bitch broke through the undergrowth with proudly held heads and cold, hard eyes. "I am Archibald the Dauntless. Welcome to the Hidden Falls." Archibald spoke with a deep, commanding voice, but it was not short of showing respect. However, this was his land and this woman before him was trespassing. Golden eyes moved briefly to Kaj, a simple flick of his ear in the direction a silent greeting to his leading partner. There was no need to give te Stormbringer a lavish welcome. He and Archibald both knew well enough that any small semblance of weakness-perceived or true-could be the downfall of their kingdom.

Before the mate could even continue her speech, the Dauntless and his cur beside him were analyzing her. She was not from the Basin, no. Her wings and sun-bleached highlights broke that prediction right away. Archibald doubted she was from the Worlds Edge. If the new Kings were as able and determined as Ophelia had let on, one of them would be standing before him. And so, the Czar decided she was from the Dragons Throat. With a Stoney mind, Archibald wondered why the Wildfire himself was not asking entrance to their home to discuss alliances and political jargon. Loretta eyed the eagle, her lip tingling with his display. "We have done well. We give our thanks to your crafters, the metal from your sands made strong armor to help fortify us."

Shifting his weight some, the massive stallion was suddenly aware of the dark grey feather tied at the base of his wither, above where his breast plate buckled securely. "Should the Throat still hold our loyalty of alliance, we will hold the bond strong." Archibald was no stallion to beat around the bush. She had a purpose here, as did the Czars before her.