The journey back home was a long one, of bitter winds and focused steps. He had been sure to keep a close eye on the young mare, golden gaze watching as he lead her back to the Throat. He was sure the repercussions of losing the cream and brown would be quite unappealing, so he paused every once and a while to look back, assuring him that she was still there and assuring her that he was attentive and aiding. Miseal filled Isara in on the recent events, the fights between the gods, the invasion, and of course the throat (all though she probably had not forgotten that way of the sands.)

In order to not let the silence of travel bring awkwardness around them, he turned a crowned head, pausing so that she may walk by his side,  "Why did you leave Helovia? If you don't mind my questioning." He asked, tones warm and curious. Never did his desire to learn the race of equines better leave him, the beast was always wondering what more experience could teach him. After all, was it not how one became wise; listening?

Slowly but surely, the rocky footing shifted to the vibrant tans and oranges of the Dragon's throat. The sun felt warm on golden skin, as did the sand shifting away from his daggers as he tread across familiar soil. Once the bridge of the throat was near, Miseal paused his travels, allowing Isara a moment to take in all that she must be dealing with. He did not know what all Helovia was to her, but the beast offered her an assured smile.  "Welcome back Isara. I am sure the dunes have missed you."

Stepping closer, Miseal pulled out that Dragon's throat key that hung around his neck. Luckily for Isara, she could easily fly over whilst flaming wings brought him to the island. He remembered his first time here, alone and unsure if he was ready to commit to really being apart of something more then himself, something bigger then his life. It was a decision he had yet to regret. He landed softly, the flying not as strange as it used to be. Seeking out a jade gaze, to once again be sure she was okay, the brute had become almost wary by his desire to protect his recruit.

Whilst waiting for another to greet them, Miseal's orbs settled on the winged, making conversation so that any worries or bores could be forgotten. "Do you miss it? Where you were?" He questioned. If Miseal seemed prodding he didn't know, curiosity was simply apart of his nature(or was it really that he didn't know when to shut the hell up?).


"talk"

OCC: um what is this whoops

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MISAEL