Their coming was like the wing strokes of night flies. He noticed that they were there, like he noticed the wind as it tugged at the pale strands of silk that hung down to the ebony nose, and the trees that sheltered the clearing. But much like the very landscape around him, the presence of the two mares was of little to none importance right now. The Glazier was busy, much too busy with the things at hand to notice the wary glances passing from one lady to another, or to pay any heed to a tickling nose that broke the silence of the night.

Continuing to stack the darkness, little by little a shape began to form. It was large, almost as large as the stallion himself and similar in shape, yet the thickening darkness was sectioned and jagged, and as of yet it was still see-through.

Patiently molding and shaping, Lace then reached out for the water that surrounded the knees, grasped the starlit liquid and brought it up from the pond to mix with the shadows. Like small rivers flowing upwards, tendrils of water rose from the surface of the pond, joined with the slithering mass of shadow. Following the map before his inner vision, slowly a new object was being born - wreathed from the very elements of nature.

It took time. As the cob-webbed stallion worked, the moon moved inch after inch across the sky. The wind picked up and stirred the mist like a ladle might stir a thick soup, sending it swirling across the open grass and making it disperse. Heartbeats, breaths, thoughts and guesses. What was he making? Not even the pale dragon knew, the white one that eventually tired of her game of tag with the moon and came down to land next to the painted draft mare. Warbling a soft greeting to the two onlookers, Fajira curled up on the ground and joined them as audience and watched her bonded at work. She was pleased. Finally he made use of the gift that had been his for so long, and even without her having to prod him for it to happen. It took so long time though, was the thing he made really that big?

Well, it was. As the mixture of shadow and water slowly began to grow more dense and the shaping and molding of the matter became more visible, the object in question became clear. No doubt inspired by the scales of his dragon, Lace was fashioning a suit of armor. It was dark, like the velvet blue of the night sky yet with a certain sheen to it that kept it from being gloomy, it was forged entirely from frosty glass. Thin, supple, it would probably be heavy to wear but strong enough to withstand impact without shattering. Made as to adjust to the size of different races and breeds of horses, it was truly a magnificent piece of artwork; art with a dark purpose, for it was clearly meant to be used.

And so, when the moon finally began to sink and a pink blush began to color the sky in the east, the last piece sunk down onto the ground, finished - and with a tired sigh, completely worn out and chilled to the bone after standing so long in the cold spring water, Lace stumbled back up on solid ground.

"This armor is hereby gifted from the Glazier of World's Edge, to the WingLeader of the World's Edge. May it be used by them, and them only, forever to belong to the highest ranked soldier at the World's Edge. Now and forever more." He was tired, yet the neck was held high and as he turned the head to look at the mares, taking them as witnesses of the event, the gaze was firm.

A jubilant cry was heard from the white dragon at the announcement, and in a sudden flurry of movement she threw herself into the air and began to fly in circles around her bonded. He smiled at her, then slowly began to make his way over to the ladies - carefully, since the legs were all but numb from cold.

[The armor looks like this :D]