None of that is to be worried about today, though. Today, the Indomitable's only desire is to graze and relax, his back turned against the arctic gusts as he tears at the lush grass beneath his feathered feet. It is early evening, with a beautiful orange sunset casting the top of the mountain into sharp relief against the crimson skies all around. The mammoth stallion's coat shines in the light of the dying sun, still glossy in the last few months before his winter fur will grow in and make him appear even bigger and hairier than usual. The vegetation here is particularly tasty and his teeth rip greedily at it as he wanders along, lost in thought and in the taste of the delicious greenery. He loves this place; not only was he born here, but this was where he and Isopia had their most pivotal meeting. Those memories are fond ones, even in light of everything that has happened since.

Without realising it, he's come to the exact same place that he and the Mountain engaged in the physical act of their mutual attraction. The leviathan looks up and around, huffing his forelock out of his eyes and sighing fondly as nostalgia washes over him before returning his head to the grass. He thinks of his body lifted by a massive dragon and taken on a flight against his will; he thinks of stone walls shielding two lovers forged like a statue of skin and pleasure. On his back, Vadir lounges like a great golden blanket; she's flipped upside-down to expose her paler underbelly to the remnants of the sunlight, occasionally twitching a leg as her dreams take her in their illusory grasp. Sprawled inelegantly on her bonded's broad spine, it would be easy to forget that she is a golden queen and a proud one at that, and that she'd shudder to think that anybody might see her in this utterly relaxed state.

Vérzés is splayed out near Volterra's massive feet, chewing on the remains of a rabbit. The trio are peacefulness personified, simply enjoying each other's company and allowing themselves to drop their regal, royal acts to engage in some much-needed downtime. The Sultan feels almost guilty that he could be sparring, recruiting, patrolling or training, but he tells himself that he needs a break as much as any man. He tells himself that he's chosen to take his break here because of the quality of the food, but in truth it's so he has a reason to think about that fateful day without the accompanying pang of guilt. Here, he's free to let his thoughts guide him, and they haul him gleefully back to that momentous, beautiful event.