Molten gold watched the reaction of the stallion closely, waiting, hoping. She had been betting on a gut feeling, an instinct, that he would hold similar values to herself, that he would strive to walk the same path as she, that she was not wasting time, threatening her own life, speaking to one that would turn against her. Sharp eyes peered into the stallion's very soul, searching, seeking absolute truth. The hope, the happiness, the transformation that swallowed the stallion, refreshed him, was surely too real to be an act. She wanted to believe him - and she did, enough at least, that a small sense of relief settled within her.

A toothy grin was returned, though she swiftly closed her lips, knowing her dragon form to be rather more intimidating than her equine one, and this was the first time he had experienced it - she was trying to make friends, not scare them away. Though I would enjoy scaring my enemies, at least for a moment, before flying away from here forever. The thought cascaded through her mind, and once again she was reminded of the numbness that existed between herself and her companion. Finally, now, she would be able to do something about it, to move and live and rejoice in her freedom.

A smokey snort left her nostrils, she blew it purposefully towards him, wanting to soak him in the smell of her fire, though without actually burning him. She had to mask him, in her own blood, to make it seem like he had put up a fight - in this act, she was already protecting him, offering her own blood as a mask for him to wear. Lifting her long, barbed tail with dexterity, she swung it around to her own shoulder, and though a snarl crossed her lips, she did not balk as it sliced into her flesh - only the sharpness of a dragon's claw could hope to make a mark through the scales of her hide. Twisting her view to behold her dragon, she nodded, and was glad she didn't need the bond to communicate what it was for her Akaith to do.

The little dragon dipped the tip of her own tail in the pooling blood, staining it crimson, giving her a murky, inky appearance in the moonlight. The little queen then flew, and in her flight, she arced herself over Xanthos, waving her tail, spattering the area, and hopefully him, with blood. She returned once, twice more to repeat the action, making sure the rocky platform looked like a struggle had been made. As blood dripped down Mirage's leg from the gash, she moved her foreleg in it, staining the ground with her claw marks - it would not do well to have the rest of the unicorns here think Xanthos was lying about her transformation, and so she made sure to leave evidence enough that whatever story he weaved about her struggle to escape would be seen as truth.

"Use my blood wisely." The DragonHeart spoke, serious and grave all of a sudden. "Our kin may not take well to your wearing of my blood, though I will inform them of your approach as swiftly as I am able. If I do not reach you first when you approach our borders, speak nothing but the truth, for it will set you free." Glancing to the cut upon her shoulder once more, she snarled again, before a deep rumbling rose up from within her. Heat filled her, and suddenly, there was flame spouting from the nostril nearest to the cut, and it was sealed, clotted and ready to heal. It still stung, and was an ugly red hue against her gleaming golden, but it no longer dripped blood whenever she moved.

Both dragons then strode to the edge of the platform, long napes arching over, as their multi-faceted eyes drank in the scenery for the last time. A grin was upon her lips, as her mighty jaws parted, and a deep, long dragonsong echoed out of her maw. Wings spread, and with a hefty leap into the skies, the DragonHeart made her way home.