He heard her call, her voice luring him in as it always had. Always would. Great wings carried him to the forest's edge, where he settled down with a flurry of wind and dust. Too great was his wingspan to allow a landing of any safety within the clearings that dotted the woods, especially if others had come to her call as well. So the hybrid trotted with calm assurance beneath the overhanging boughs, weaving through the close-growing trunks, until her scent filled his nares and guided him to her.

Others had preceded him, those golden eyes of his perceived their presence easily even in the dusky light. Two mares with feathered wings, one of vibrant coloration and one of dull, both small in stature but the latter strong in presence. He could scent the dry, dusty scent of the southern desert on their hides, leavened by green growing things and water. Two stallions of statures fit to challenge his in height and bulk, dark as night but marked brilliantly in red and white. They smelled of the northern forests, but the look of them reminded him of Rishima, of Mirage. Their brothers, he assumed. That gave him pause, a moment where his stride faltered, his forward step elongated for a whisper in time before he continued on.

From the shadows he emerged, taller than the rest, leathery wings folded against coppery colored sides. Bronze scales glinted in the half light, a white dragon, stretched in flight, writhing over the muscles of his left shoulder while his own long tail swayed in time with his steps. Black marked his legs, cascaded along his spine in the form of an extended mane that reached from poll to tail-tip. Golden eyes with slit pupils now narrowing to accommodate the greater light of the open space rested briefly on each of the ones already present, and his head dipped in respectful greeting to each of the pegasi. A smile quirked his lips as he gazed upon Madryn and Maskan, then he nodded to them in turn.

Then his attention was all for Mirage as he crossed to her, certain of his welcome as he dipped his head to extend his muzzle to her. Reaching for her own muzzle, but leaving the choice of that touch up to her. Moving forward another step, two, and skimming his muzzle against her neck and then resting on her shoulder. He breathed a gentle sigh of satisfaction then, his lips quirking again with a rise of amusement. He'd just pushed a few buttons, he knew. Knew Mirage would be aware of his smile, and the heartbeat of intentional stillness before he regained his composure and lifted his head to reach his muzzle next toward Akaith, greeting the gold with a soft rumble, dragon to dragon, as always.

At last he shifted away to take a position near but not too near. Always supporting, but not taking any further steps to claim a spot beside her. Soon enough she'd invite him there, he knew. But he could wait, a dragon was adept at waiting. In the meantime he amused himself by watching her brothers. Waiting to see what they'd make of his quite intimate greeting to their little sister. He waited as well to see whom else would heed that call, expecting at last to see this little family all in one place.