Of course the dragonmare was present. News of her beloved Edge was something she would keep tabs on, something she would be involved with. Did she agree with their defection? Of course not. Had she been Queen, would it have happened? She wouldn't have stopped those who wanted to leave from leaving. She wouldn't have encouraged them to leave, but rather, tried to show them why what had happened, happened. Though, that was easier said than done - and there was no use mulling over it anyway. What was done was done - and now the Edge stood, a land abandoned by its people, kept in the shadows by its Goddess, and contested over by those who thought themselves worthy.

The mare was indifferent to the selection process, most likely because she was not a part of it. Her time as Queen had come and gone, she held no desire to hold the crown again, but that did not mean she didn't care for the herd, nor want to be a part of it in the future. On the contrary - she wanted to be Seer, to be the Goddess' connection to the land (as if the bracelet she wore upon her leg was not enough).

It was obvious when the mare arrived, for the false twilight that fell upon the lands announced her, though her presence was masked by the shimmering mirage that was her magic cloaking her. Though perhaps it went mosty unnoticed because there were far more interesting things going on. Akaith, appeared suddenly in the trees above the group, joining the other dragons who were present, with an affection greeting given in particular to the red spirit glow of Amaris - a greeting sure to trickle through to the golden child. Mirage smiled to herself, hidden in her magic as she remained on the fringes, and listened without interfering or interjecting. It wasn't her place to.

A strange mix of pride and sorrow went through her heart as she watched her daughter make her plea. Leadership was not something to be yearned for lightly, though that was a lesson most only learned when thrust upon the mantle. Her daughter would make a fine queen, but she would lose all semblance of a normal life if she were successful in attaining it. A sigh left her lips - it was all she could do on the matter, really.

Then her attention beheld Cathun.

If Lace was the SilverThorn, then this one was the SilverSpear surely, far more obvious and all the more deadly for his ambition and resolve.

The mare knew not how to feel about him. She looked upon with both love and hate - a love for his father, and a hate for whatever mare birthed him.

Others were present of course, others pledged their case to the committee that would ultimately decide, but Mirage's attention did not drift from the ashen hide of Cathun until he came.

Mauja.

"Still bitter about your loss, I see, Mauja." Her voice appeared at the same time she did, stepping forward to stand beside her daughter. Mirage was not an overly tall mare, she was not domineering in stature but actually rather average. She was aged, but fit, she was scarred, but mobile.

And hell, she could turn into a dragon if she wanted to.

"What exactly have you done that makes you so qualified to cast judgement upon everyone else here?"