amaris

The world was still. It was pristine, perfect, porcelain. Amaris felt the cold - but it didn't bother her, for she had a pelt thick and fluffy lined with scales of a dragon (and a new soul-bond to keep her busy besides). Indeed, it was simple to forget about such worries as being cold when one's mind was full of discovering the world through a newborn's eyes. Dragonsblood ran through her veins and a dragonsoul now danced along her own (more-so than the souls her magic would have called in Dramyrth's absence). She called those souls today as well - a red and a green, a reminder of more summery seasons, and discovered a cacophony within her mind louder than anything she had experienced before.

But the mare was in good spirits - her little king was thriving, gliding on the breeze just above her as she walked, twirling and dancing with the other souls that his true-bonded had summoned. Dramyrth didn't question whether he was superior to them - he simply was. It amused Amaris, the surety which with he lived his life, the confidence that he was a king no matter everything else that existed in the world that might deny it. It was more than a simple notion; it was his existence.

The world was still, except for the dragonmare and her companions, pushing through the snowdrifts. Every now and then, the little king would dip his flight to raise up a fresh, powdery shower of snow in front of the mare. Laughter, gentle and exotic, gurgled from her maw as she would then rear and dance beneath the flakes; an angel dipped in gold, silver and caramel.

The moonlight shifted then - the clouds above congregated and seemed to decide that fresh snow was needed - with a draconic song the companions sung at its arrival, and Amaris decided to finally seek out shelter. She was surprised to find a path already laid out for her, as she too followed the river. It had seemed to appear out of nowhere, and, being the semi-predatory being that she was, Amaris followed it with little fear and trepidation for her wellbeing as to what might have carved it.

Surprise coloured her features when she reached the treeline where the filly lingered, her steps pausing as she looked with golden pools at the pegasus girl while her companions flew onwards to investigate for themselves. "Hello?" she called with her gentle tones, lowering her tiara and holding her position out under the falling snow, lest she frightened the girl (any further than her companions may already have done, anyway). "I mean no harm," she added, "and nor do they. We only seek shelter from the snow."