Dragomir is never sure why he is lured out and away from his home, on these ventures that have stolen him since he was very small and first able to slip away from his mother’s doting side. All he knows for sure is that the resulting adventures are always worth his time, even if at the time they seem to be only disasters. It has been a good while since he’s gone to the Threshold, a place he has scantly been seen in since arriving to Helovia, but he remembers some tough looking vines that grew up and into the tall trees that littered the wood of entry. The vines would serve too many practical purposes in his craft for him to abandon the memory of them all together, and while the vines are a thought that sends him out on his way, it is soon forgotten in the joy of walking among the fields of spring.

Having grown up in a tropical place, the temperate fields of Helovia were inspiring in that they were so different from what he had once known. Surely, it was similar; there was still grass and trees, but the types of each were so different and almost plain in comparison to the bold foliage of his youth. Where most would have been disappointed in the change, Dragomir felt more at peace in this simple landscape than he ever had while growing, as if the land itself mirrored his way of life; plain browed, knitted to the soil, without much flash or grandeur to him even when he meant to be boastful.

Before he knows it he is within the boundaries of the shady entry way to Helovia and smiling softly to himself as he walks deeper in. He’s nearly a quarter of a mile through the tree line before he remembers why he’d come here in the first place, quietly clacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in good humor of his short mindedness. Already having passed many trees being devoured by the vine in question, he continues onward, believing it is best to continue rather than back tracking, and loathe to give up his peaceful time away from the myriad voices of his herdmates.

It is another voice, however, the draws his attention, a strange one, speaking familiar words, once he’s found some vines and has set himself to gathering.

Dragon-Lady? he thinks, images of the two dragon hybrids of the Edge swirling to his frontal thoughts. He had not seen either of the girls since he had come to this place, and the thought that all of Mirage’s line had not been lost to shadow sends him trotting his massive bulk through the trees, branches snapping against his oncoming chest as he hurries to the clearing he’d heard the shout arise from. Vines dangle ridiculously from his lips as he half stumbles with a hopeful and slightly bewildered expression to him, his grin growing broad and fast at the sight of the silver scaled girl…

Who was not such a girl, any more. Her body was growing, much as his own had finished; no longer was she frail and innocent, but a young woman with curves and pretty lashes, and he was no longer the awkward, gangly thing that he had been on their first meeting. Sinew now coated his entire frame, thick and corded from the long walks he took while finding things to use in his crafts and patrolling the borders when it seemed the soldier’s ranks were slim.

For once in his life he remembers there is something in his mouth before he tries to talk; tossing the plants across his broad shoulders he enters into the conversation without so much as a second thought to the feelings of the male unicorn present. He didn’t know the girl as Dragomir did, and so he felt that friendship surely over-ruled any notions of finding her a home before she knew what terms she agreed to. "Semira!" he says in jovial greeting, nodding as an afterthought to the stallion present, "I was afraid you’d…vanished."

The word died cannot make it to his lips. The girl is alone, without Amaris or Mirage, and his heart slowly breaks as he realizes this. Perhaps she has come first, to see if the way is clear? Even if the Lady Mirage did not return to lead the Edge, he was filled with sorrow to think that he would never get to share in her wisdom again, that dark mare who gave him hope that even souls such as himself could find a better path to walk upon.