He had been following her. His illusive, tiny sister. Well, she was not really tiny any more. She was growing larger than most fillies her age, the blood of their father running strong in her veins just as it ran through the sons of hellion. He kept losing her scent in the snow as he followed her away from the Hidden Falls. He had witnessed something he did not want to be a part of when he was searching for her there, making it easy for his sister to slip through the borders unnoticed by him. Grinding his teeth, he pressed on up the curvature of the path to the Heavenly Fields. He remembered the island that floated above this place all those seasons ago, before Macaria was born and before his mother died. Part of him would have liked the island to still be there, but the recent expansion of his world by the gods was enough to fulfill his longing and his wanderlust. His hooves pressed hard into the packed path and his dragons circled overhead, undetected and unseen through the misty fog.

Finally reaching the summit, Abraham lifted his broad head. Ears swiveled behind his horns, reaching out for the voice of his sister. After standing stark still for what seemed like eternity, he finally heard it. The singsong whisper of her voice on the wind, pulling him forcefully from his statue-position in the snow. His thick legs lifted in a high trot, pulling him towards Macaria with an inward haste. There was something in her voice that made him quicken his step, a nervousness birthed in an overprotective nature tugging at the strings of his heart and beginning to boil his blood. Above him, Gwyneverre screamed her discontent and the dragons spiralled down to earth. As they broke through the fog, so did their bondmate. Mac he commanded them, and they obeyed. White and gold flitted around the thick filly, hissing and dangerous trilling sounds quietly ebbing from parted jaws. Brienne, the larger of the two dragons, swooped upward to land on Macaria's back. The royal reptile was careful with her claws, as to not cut the precious sister. Emerald eyes fell dangerously on the deer. I could eat that companion, she told Abraham, her wings lifted as frost fell from between her razor teeth. Gwyneverre, the smaller white, continued to glide in circles around Macaria, watching the unknown mare.

"Ode." Abraham nodded to the dark stallion digging before them as he stopped his trot at Macaria's side. Gwyneverre moved to land on Abraham's brow, balancing herself on his twin, twisted horns. His shoulder touched his sister's, and he looked to the other mare suspiciously. Who dared make his sister's voice waver?

I taste like magic, waves that swallow quick and deep
Throw the bait, catch the shark, bleed the water red
Fifty words for murder and I'm every one of them