"We all have our quirks," she responded, glancing at the dragon upon her withers who was trying to imitate the caw that Weaver's Raven had made (though it sounded decidedly too dragon-like to ever pass as a raven's call). "Dragonsblood flow through my veins, courtesy of my sire; though my mother wasn't called the DragonHeart for no reason either," she said lightly as her tiara returned to its neutral position, not thinking of the impact her words might have on an essentially unknown entity - she did not usually boast about her lineage, for though Mirage the DragonHeart achieved great things, she also left a walk of destruction in her wake.
But Amaris was not given the luxury to think of the impact her words might have on the stranger, for just mentioning her parents again brought the memories, the feelings and emotions to the surface once more. Mirage, her mother, was dead, gone, passed to the next realm - just over six months had passed for Amaris, though far longer had passed on Helovia's timescale (thanks to a most inconvenient timeslip). For that same reason, Amaris now knew she would never see her father again either - both her parents were now essentially dead to her, and she was the only evidence left of their existence walking Helovia now.
Swallowing abruptly, the dragonmare guarded her façade from showing these emotions, instead distracting herself from such things and focussing once more upon the horned, winged belle before her. "Is your affinity ravens?" she asked, recalling clearer the fact that the mare transformed earlier, noting now that though she was painted in appearance, her wings were similar in shape and design as that of her companion's.
@Weaver
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