Old habits die hard. Even more so when it is a habit so ingrained into your bones that not practicing it make you feel physically ill, restless to the point where the same old scenery turn the mood sour and the air stale. Walking, for example. Lace had spent most of his eight years of living on the roads, heading from one place to the next. From time to time he would stop, mingle with a herd, join up with a band of mercs and enjoy the company of others for a while. Then he would leave, sparing no thought to the ones that remained behind him, with no obligations and no regrets.

Things were different now. For some reason, that seemed more and more vague and increasingly stupid, he had joined a herd with an unspoken intention of sticking around. No one was forcing him to stay at the Edge, not one living soul had placed any expectations only him - and yet still he felt pushed into a corner, as if he had no choice but to remain where he was and to do the best of the situation.

That's silly, you know the dragon criticized as they meandered through the snowy forest, slowly because of the treacherous footing and the aching leg that served as a reminder of the battle they had fought. Just because we have family and home now, doesn't mean you can't wander if you want. Qian have DragonHeart, no need for spider-lace-on-black to babysit the Edge.
"Of course, I know that" the grullo stallion replied out loud as he stepped over a snow-covered log, preferring to respond in his own voice rather than to communicate through the bond that connected their minds. Fajira would understand him anyway. "I never said it was rational, it's just this feeling of obligation I have. I still owe Mirage, and since I failed to help her much by aiding in the invasion I want to be there, just in case there's anything I can do for her - for them."

The little dragon snorted and dipped the tip of a white wing, veering around a cluster of young pines obstructing her path. She didn't give much for his sense of obligation and didn't hesitate to let him know that, whenever she got a chance. According to Fajira his debt hadn't been very great to begin with, and had become repaid the moment he joined the forces that invaded the borders of the Edge and eventually also drove the resident herd away. She had her own reasons for wishing to remain in the misty region, but they were far simpler. There were dragons there, other bonded with whom she could hunt and play and enjoy the brightness of the winter days, where frost turned the forest and cliffs into works of art.

With a flick of the tail Lace shook his head, knowing it didn't matter how many times he tried to explain his reasoning to the White. Either she couldn't understand or she didn't want to - it wasn't the first time they discussed the matter, and surely wouldn't be the last either. Matter of fact was, he wasn't going to leave anytime soon - winter had only just started and would keep him in place whether he liked it or not. Between the aching leg and the growing scarcity of food his hand was forced, and there would be plenty of time to think things over. Come spring however...

A short trill from the small, cat-sized dragon dragged the equine from his thoughts and made him focus on the surroundings. He came to a halt and turned the head to listen, ears twitching and turning until he picked up the sound of a voice, coming not too far away from his location. Curiosity coursed through him, arched the neck and forced the limp away from his movements as he changed direction and moved toward the owner of the voice. It had been feminine and somewhat frightened, thus turning on his protective instincts like a switch to a light bulb.

Only few moments passed before the slender stallion pressed through the shrubbery and emerged into the small clearing, where the snow appeared to be thinning out enough to allow faded grass to poke through the frosted coating. Honey-colored eyes scrutinized the surroundings before landing upon the winged beings, suspicion melting into something gentler once things like age and predicament was taking into consideration. So young she seemed, barely more than a foal still. He hadn't been the only one to react to her voice it seemed, judging by the presence of the black-winged pegasi. Lace wasn't entirely sure that it was a good idea to intrude... his companion wasn't quite as restrained though.

Her color is pretty Fajira commented, before swooping into the clearing with a silvery, birdlike trill sounding from her pearly maw in greeting.
You like everything that's white. Smiling, Lace followed at a slower pace, careful not to crowd the filly or scare her.

"Hello there" he said casually, hoping that none of the pegasi would take offense at his presence. "I heard someone calling out, is everything alright?"