The obsidian mare felt secure, and protected beneath the embraces of her friends. The broad wingspan of Vikram provided a shelter for her, one that gave the impression of a fortress being built around her. Golden eyes looked at all of those who had arrived here, again and again she struggled to comprehend the situation. The deep vibrations that echoed from Vikram’s chest surprised her, and as she pieced together was what happening she watched his actions vaguely, almost as if she was absent from her body, watching from an outside view. In slow motion she saw the dragon in him become more obvious, a savage beast tempered only by the equine half of him. He left her side, and she wavered a moment, suddenly filled with a longing for the comfort of his nearness, and took a few steps in his trail. Catching herself, however, she stopped and simply watched his display of rage, learning all the more about her enigmatic friend. Akaith had followed Vikram, hot on his heels she spouted a tunnel of flames in as the body made its descent in to the pit.

He returned to their gathering immediately after that, though the mare could sense a change had washed through him. He looked insecure, almost worried about what the others would think of him, and despite her current condition, Mirage wanted to offer him comfort. Akaith had also returned, landing upon the ground amongst them with a small snort of smoke exiting her pointed nostrils. The others seemed unconcerned with Vikram’s actions, but the raven mare was perplexed, intrigued about just what made the dragon-stallion what he was. He is a bronze. It was not the first time Akaith had called him such. The golden one had always referred to him firstly as the colour his scales revealed, then a stallion, where Mirage had always seen the equine part of him first. But the mare was seeing what her queen had always seen now; Vikram’s dragon half was certainly as real as his equine half.

Pulling her gaze from him, she heard the words the others spoke, felt Torasin’s gentle stroke, and wondered how she was so fortunate to be surrounded by such strong, comforting friends. “Only the memory of my own actions will haunt me.” Quietly she spoke, behaving much like Vikram was a moment ago, not quite meeting others’ eyes. Even as her composure returned, she still felt unclean, like there was a stain upon her soul.