The dragons suddenly disappeared waiting and biding their time as she drank the cool water, molten silver eyes scanning the surface. Roughly when she lifted her neck, they erupted from the surface, spraying water across their scales and flying off. She watched curiously, having no opinions on dragons one way or the other. Where she had grown up, most dragons were considered evil or taboo, and she had subconsciously taken after her adoptive mother, Illynx, in regards to her bonded Zerachiel. The griffin was a bright light in her heart, representing the good (though there was little) of her childhood - of Illynx's griffin teaching her to fly.
Zera cooed in her mind, still not able to speak yet and not even trying. She couldn't blame him. There were so many words, and speaking was often ill advised.
Her attention flickered to the dark stallion moving closer, and her ear twitched before her gaze followed. His heavy steps rattled the ground where he moved, such a contrast to her light, cloven steps which barely crunched fallen leaves and snow. Rains still misted around them, soaking her coat until she was nearly a gray color instead of all white. Water had a funny way of revealing what was just beneath the surface, except on him, it made him even darker. Aithniel wondered why...
"You do?" she asked in return. Her voice wasn't overly feminine. It wasn't soft and sweet. But, it was quiet and clear. Aithniel raised a brow at his hungry gaze, settling comfortably in her current position and not at all yielding to the heady weight. "Ah, yes," she replied, smirking just a little. She recognized him now. The ground dweller. He had done considerable damage too. "I remember seeing you too. Who are you?" she asked plainly, no ulterior motive behind her question.
Not that his name mattered, really. She wanted him either way. In fact, she took a step into his space, bolding matching him even though she stood much shorter, lifting her horned head to meet his gaze.
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