It was a gentle hum, a sigh, a passing drift of wind and sea air, that stirred through the nostrils of the Leader, gifting her with the delicate, saline scent of the sea that stretched for miles and miles beneath her, but also with the scent of her home. It was an ancient scent, one crafted from years of existence, years of having the sea slowly scratch away at the cliffs. The Leader had to wonder just how long it would take for her lofty home to be eroded away completely - but then she remember that while mother nature was strong, this land was supported by the will of the Gods - her God, the very lady Luna, whom she was born beneath, whom had guided her since her hooves could carry her petite frame successfully across the loam of the earth.

The dragonsong continued, sung by the glittering golden lizard that tumbled on the breeze over the edge of the cliff, high above the sea yet beneath the feet of her mistress. It was a small token of this life that amused her; to be flying so high above one thing, and yet still beneath another. Eyes of liquid aureate watched the antics of her beloved bonded, amusement lighting her face just as the happiness within the bond softened the chiselled lines that spoke of Arabic influences in her blood.

The stumbling step of another approaching reached her ears between the sounds of thrashing waves, and dragon's cooing. Svelte ears turned atop her tiara, curious, thirsty for knowledge, as always. Deep, magnetic, liquid pools soon turn too, as the posture of the maiden adjusted to view this new arrival. A faint scent of sand and dust, which reminded her of searing heat and sun, a pegasus leader and a strange tree in the centre of the lands, lingered upon the pelt of this chocolate maiden, whose colouring was not so far away from the Pegasus Mirage held in high esteem, the Resolute one, Kri. A gentle inclination of her crown acknowledged the maiden's approach, and the words she spoke. Was this a message to be delivered to her from the Throat?

It was not, as least, not until this mare had ascertained her identity. A small ghost of a smile touched her lips at the question, amusement once again lighting up behind her sharp eyes, as she pondered just how to respond. With a confirming nod, the mare arched her nape, and then, suddenly, her outline became blurred, and to focus upon her was to give oneself a chronic headache. A light step, a gentle, musical note of laughter, and the mare closed the gap between them before dropping the illusionary cloak that was her magic.

"Indeed I am. Who might you be?"