The girl's own golden gaze drifted upward, to watch the young queen take flight. Memories of Akaith's constant company when she was younger flooded her senses, the sound of her lullaby as she would encourage the fillies to sleep at night, the smell of her smoky, spiced breath as she would greet them, the feel of her scales as she would curl up in the bend of Amaris' nape on those nights where she would not lie with Semira or Mirage. The constant warmth - Amaris' own body ran at temperatures warmer than normal equine derivatives, but to a dragon, she would still seem cold in comparison. Akaith always had a fire burning within, and Amaris knew that to be true with all dragonkind - dragons were fire made flesh, after all.

So she watched the golden queen take wing, and felt a longing to see Akaith fly beside her - but it wouldn't happen, could never happen, because Akaith was dead, dead with her mother. A smile touched the girl's façade, despite it all, as she felt the friendly, curious advances of her red and blue spirits to the dragons present, felt their excitement and their joy at meeting others, watched as the blue danced with the gold and the red made to fly alongside Vérzés. They were mature when they passed, and so their glowing bodies were comparable in size to these living dragons. Amaris watched them with a fresh layer of tears glistening upon her eyes - she wondered if she would ever feel the true soul-link that a bond between dragon and equine. Her magic allowed her to call forth dragons from wherever they went when they left this realm, (and she had tried to call forth Akaith's own spirit, but to no avail), but it was a psuedo-bond, a fallacy, a temporary stadium for which the girl to learn and see and feel things that others cannot.

With her gaze glistening with new tears unshed, she looked back to Volterra, purring warmly in response to the even deeper intonations of his words. A swell of affection rose in her breast for him, as she pressed forward with her muzzle extended, to touch him fondly upon the cheek, her warm breath blowing though her nostrils. "Better," she said softly, speaking against his cheek even as she swung her bodice around to stand more parallel to him rather than face to face. Truth be told, she still felt an unquenchable numbness, a severe lack of anything besides dismal hopelessness, but it would not serve to burden her friend with such things. Besides, maybe if she told others that she was feeling better, she would eventually begin to actually feel better..

Amaris was ever one to know what emotions were running through her, what emotions she should allow to define her and what ones to portray to those around her. The most frustrating thing was not knowing, or understanding that which she was feeling at this time - she simply could not define it, and so she felt lost and confused, adrift in a tarpit of despair and loneliness, stuck on an island with the wings of her emotions clipped - who knew how long it would take for her to find herself again, her love and her joy - she could pretend for now, pretend and maybe, just maybe she might even forget what having one's heart destroyed felt like.

Idly, she wondered if this was why Mauja was the way he was.

"You've grown again," she nudged him playfully with her shoulder, even as she lifted her nearest wing to lean upon the curve of his withers. Perhaps it was foolish of her to overlook the stallion he had become, to trust that he was still the innocent colt she had met (two years past) was still one and the same, full of questions and wonders and easily impressed by the dragonmare's simple existence. He stood taller than her now, and was growing bulkier, (though the lankiness of youth still lingered on him, and would for a few more years yet - such was the way of the heavier breeds), and yet she remembered only the young weanling, and then later a yearling, with a dragon bonded to his mind and soul. Now it would seem he had gained another - she wondered with some remnant of amusement, whether in another year she would find him bonded to three.

"Are you well, Volterra?"

@Volterra

Amaris