HEROES MAY DIE

The sound of what could only be massive wings pushing against the winds was impossible to dismiss. From where he stood grazing, Destrier snapped his head up and listened intently. For a moment he might have dismissed it as a Pegasus flying overhead, unseen through the mists, but it was impossible; by the sound alone, he could tell that this was much bigger than a winged horse. But before he could put much more thought into it, a chilling, hauntingly beautiful song resonating throughout the land. A shiver ran down the Friesian's spine as it echoed, then ever so slowly faded away.

He wasn't sure how to react, but he would not stand to do nothing. He was his home now, and he would withold his promise to protect it, no matter how new a face he was to the rest.

Turning on his hocks, the stallion took off in the direction of the call, the mists parting for him as he moved. It didn't take him too long to reach the only thing that could have made such a call; a massive dragon, with a grand display of horns protruding from it's body. Another call escaped the great creature, and somehow, it sounded welcoming, calling the residents of the Edge closer. As he made his way towards the dragon, he recognized the familiar form of Ink, the lanky black steed who had been the first to meet him on the borders and judge him. Not far from him was another familiar face, the grullo Glazier called Lace. He had been the one to ultimately allow him here, and had put him up to the test of battling all three equine species. There was a third, a champagne colored paint whose name he was unaware of, but was certain he would find out soon enough.

Now, his attention was settled almost entirely on the scaly form of the dragon, listening to the words of the others as they spoke up. This was the great Weyrleader, Mirage? It all made sense, suddenly, as to why she would be regarded by such a name. He wondered briefly what she might look like in her natural form, before his thoughts went back to the present. The heartfelt joy that filled the air was comforting, and almost instantly, any sort of apprehension that the Friesian had felt evaporated. He found himself settling at Ink's side, giving the silent steed a nod in welcoming, before settling his warm gaze back upon Mirage.

He wanted nothing more to welcome the leader home, but he would remain quiet as his inky brother until he was addressed. After all, she was certainly more worried about what had happened in her absence, and Destrier found himself wanting to listen in.

BUT LEGENDS ENDURE