And he doesn't even know her name.

Sensing that his bonded is no longer in danger of doing anything stupid, the scarlet dragon unhands his thick lock of mane and takes to the wing, landing in a nearby tree and nestling comfortably down on the wide branch. His proudly horned head rests on his forepaws and a small sizzle of icy air leaves his nostrils as he rests, keeping one beady eye on Volterra. The strange behaviour of horses is of little interest to the red, and his sleep is far more appealing.

Momentarily distracted by watching his companion move, Volterra doesn't notice Isopia's stutter, nor does he observe the weighted pause after her single I... If only he knew what thoughts ran in her head! It would certainly make him feel less guilty about his own thoughts. Large enough for two, she says. Who is the second, he wonders? Perhaps her king, perhaps a friend, perhaps her future lover.

The thought fills him with a most unnerving stab of jealousy.

She flips her head, locks of luscious mane landing just so, and Volterra realises he's gawping again. Clearing his throat, he jerks his own heavy head in a stiff nod of acknowledgement as she stands where she wants the pool to go. Here? she asks, and the colt ruffles slightly with delight that he's being asked. "There looks good." He has to admit, sitting in a warm pool in the depths of winter with a view like this, and a gorgeous demi-god nestled against his side, is quite an appealing picture. A throaty chuckle leaves him at her final words, ears flipping in mock disgust. "Slave-driver," he lightheartedly accuses.

All humour disappears from him then as he focuses on the task in hand; what a colossal task it will be! He's never created structures to last before. He always uses them until he gets bored then lets them collapse back into the soil, returning a little of his strength to him - not letting them collapse will therefore not give him that boost of strength. Admittedly the thought of scarring the landscape with a sculpture of his own making is rather appealing to his primal nature, laying his claim on his own little piece of Isopia's clearing with a creation built to last. The connotations, the symbolism...he was the first to be invited here and he will create something for the girl to use, for her to think of him every time she lowers herself into the warm waters...

In his half-sleep, Vérzés gives a warning rumble and sends the colt an image of his mane being tugged again. The monolith focuses his mind, braces his stout and powerful limbs against the ground, and reaches for the nub of magic nestled within his soul. Because he cannot drag earth down, he instead intends to create lifted sides, for the water to be put into - he intends to create a circle large enough for two horses to stand inside, but knows he can only do it one half at a time else the magic take its toll. He has a mental image of his creation; his circle around Isopia's rocks, with one bit of the side lower than the rest for access. A little bit of them both put into their structure. Her warm water lapping against his carefully-ascended sides.

Slowly, painstakingly, the rock beneath the ground in front of Isopia begins to wobble, poking from the sod like poison sucked out of a wound. Precision is surprisingly difficult, as he's used to simply creating errant hills and towers that have no particular shape, so to try and create a perfect circle of lifted stone is rather tricky. His strength begins to wobble as the rising rock drags it out of him, but the sap of power is slow, not a sudden explosion like last time. He can control it; he stops every so often to breathe deeply and rest, before continuing. Soon, a half-circle of chest-high rock rises around Isopia's gathered rocks, and Volterra allows his magic to slip away, slowly easing it out so his creation doesn't tumble back into the ground. It stands firm, and he gives a grunt of delight.

He looks to the hybrid. "Big enough so far?" he questions, admiring his handiwork. If she gives the seal of approval, he'll continue. He wants it to be perfect.

For you.

@[Isopia]