The moment Valentine's tongue reached out and touched the ash, the healing began. Flecks of ash began to coat the stallion's body from within, pressing out and seeming to bring healthy flesh and blood beneath it as it rose. Just as Valentine black out, a casing of ash that came internally, shattered around his body, scattering to the ground. As the horse fell, his body was whole, not even scarring present from the terrible wounds. He would likely awake within a matter of seconds.

Bob nodded, a smile gracing his lips. "Ay does the trick! He should wake up soon, can't say it's the best tasting stuff." Bob chuckled, noticing Lace's expression. Where else did he think ash came from? Fire burned and in its wake it left the waste of spent existence. The fire gremlins thriving within the heart were just that; fire. They were an embodiment of it, a different form of it, but fire all the same.

As those red, devilish eyes met the webbed horse, for the first time they lit upon the dragon. At once the gremlin's expression changed from one of comfortable ease to bewilderment.
"...Dragon," he breathed, spurts of flame dancing around his mouth as he sighed the word, so precious on his tongue. His clawed hand reached out, almost longingly, though he was so far from being close to touching the divine beast.

As if remembering himself and his situation he brought his hand back quickly to himself, his gaze turning away abruptly, as though ashamed of his childish display of awe. "She may partake of the ash as well," he murmured, his eyes flickering with a sort fo inner pain when he noticed she seemed afflicted as well. The Heart's flame was intense enough to wound even them, a dragon would fare no better. He held out the pile to her, but first knelt on the ground and gently deposited it there, as if suspecting her a wild creature that might rip his digits off. Mostly he was shy of the mysterious beast, enamoured as round eyes watched her expectantly.

Catching himself again he cleared his throat, turning away hastily. He clenched and unclenched his claws for a moment and then began to walk forward. He seemed to assume they would follow as he started down the hallway, beginning to talk. "I apologize for bringing you here. Understand I would not out of great necessity." There was truth in that. His kind did not go near the top world and likely he would be punished for interfering as he did. His passion for his kind outweighed his self preservation of justice however. "I have need of your abilities however. You....horses, are strong and magical in ways we are not." The word 'horses' rolled uncertainly from his tongue, as if not entirely sure it was the right term. It didn't truly matter however and he pressed onward, fear shaking his tones as he continued.

"We have a terrible thing that has come down here and we cannot seem to be rid of it." He breathed deeply, pausing at a great iron and ebony door. He cast a glance back at his travel companions, smiling a toothy smile of unease. In the next moment he pushed on the doors. They gave a low whine of resistance before swinging open.

As the smoke and ash swirled and cleared, the doorway stood to reveal a vast and mighty underground metropolis. Walkways of stone intricately woven together coursed above them while buildings and edifices spun around the walls and reached so high up they vanished from sight. No sun shone but a great swath of fire light on nearly every point of a building cast the place in a warm and inviting glow, though it was dimmed a pale purple. It would not be immediately apparent to the newcomers, but the fires' colors changes with the world's turn of sun above ground, so the flames would soon be a dull blue within the next hour.

It was so incredibly alien from anything the horses could have ever known, and there was an appealing beauty to this hidden, forgotten world of fire and brimstone. Yet for all the world of differences, the place had a similarity with the horses, one born within community regardless of species. It was a busy place, but it seemed content and not the least bit threatened.

That was at least, until the scream pealed over the buildings from the distance. It echoed with such an unsightly reminder, bouncing off every nook and cranny, even the buildings themselves seemed to quiver and shrink in cowardice.