The numbness of the bond was chilling, it left the little shadowy creature feeling naked, vacant, empty. A part of her very soul had been muted, and as a result, a sense of disconnection, and loss, overwhelmed her for much of the time. Silence had become her new closest friend, it had replaced the glorious, glowing, golden caress of her beloved Akaith's own soul encompassing her own, carrying her through whatever grief she undoubtedly endured in her captivity. It was agonising, every time the little gold would leave the cave to hunt or otherwise relieve herself, Mirage would curl upon into herself, like a cat, hiding her eyes amidst her forelegs, pressing her ears flat against her skull. She would sulk, until the return of the golden one allowed her to unfold, to physically embrace the dragon as kin, as a mother, a sister, a daughter.

The numbness of the bond was, it would seem, lasting longer than she had originally anticipated. She wondered, idly, if she was the only on affected, having been kept in solitude, with only a single unicorn as her guard, although she knew others had come to gawk at her, stare and judge the great DragonHeart as she stood, alone and silent in the back of the cave which would hold her captive, golden eyes peering blankly at the onlookers, proffering no hints of what went on within her breast.

Slowly, however, she could feel the touch of her magic returning, the hints of Darkness and Fire churning within her. She had to wonder, did they know why she was called the Dragonheart?

The mare laid down once more, though this time, Akaith had not left the cave. Eyes shut tightly against the anticipation of what would come. Pain, sufferance and deep, agonising burning swallowed her, obliterated her, made her feel like she was being pommelled into the ground by a thousand heated swords. A groan escaped her, it was impossible not to, as her weakened condition, the magic of the transformation took its toll upon her. It was always painful, but this time had been particularly bad - she had never realised, or appreciated, just how much Akaith had numbed her pain when she had transformed previously.

It was over soon, the deed complete, the change whole. The mare now stood back up, only, she was no black mare. A golden dragon, the same size as what the little shadow normally stood, occupied the space. Serpentine nape curled her crown about, viewing the world through a different set of eyes; golden, slitted, predatory and sharp. She wasted no time in pulling herself forward, to the mouth of the cave, where her guard undoubtedly stood. Claws clacked against the stone, scratching the base of the cave like a carver etches designs into soft wood. Smoke rose from her nostrils, spinning grey tales of a fire kept inside for far too long. Akaith chirruped, clearly pleased with this change in her bonded, and took to the skies above her, hovering for a moment as they stood in the mouth of the cave, before clutching to a spike that rose from Mirage's long nape, and keenly watching the surrounds.

"Xanthos." Her voice was the same, accented, kind, but with a definitive dragon touch adding a deeper curl onto it. "It is time we spoke." The DragonHeart stretched her wings most purposefully then, following through with a long, elegant cat-stretch of her body, warming up the muscle ad sinew she would soon engage for flight. But first, she longed for a discussion with her guard.

[ For Xanthos. ]