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06-08-2012, 12:41 PM
It pleased Smoke to know her assessment was correct about this black mare, and she inclined her head respectfully in return with a warmer smile. "My name is Smoke the Wild Rose, Miltary Chieftess of the Foothills." This was spoken just loud enough to let the young stud hear as well.
But he seemed more preoccupied by the arrival of her dragon, and it was all the mare could do not to laugh at his surprised shout in comparison to the recognition and admiration that the sight of a dragon usual garnered. Alarm was something she'd expect on the field of battle, not in such a casual setting. "I take it you've never seen a dragon then?" She couldn't hide the humour that danced in her eyes. "His name is Zaffre, and he and I share a soul bond that only death can sever." The introduction was accented by Zaffre blowing out a brief streamer of flame, carefully aimed to not singe anyone or anything nearby, and trilling softly.
At last the youngster gave his name. Atlas. When he did inquire about the Foothills, it was with impudence. "You have worse manners than our own foals." She observed drily, but was not given the opportunity to say more when two massive stallions stepped from the tree cover with words that were almost a threat. Dark gaze glanced to them, recognizing their appearance even when their voices were unfamiliar. It was amusing for her to see just how many of her own herd had gathered here to deal with this young upstart, and all of them warriors.
Black tail swished against battle scarred gray haunches, just short of lashing against the hide of the blue who was quite comfortably crouched on top of them. "Would you like to try asking again?" She inquired calmly, politely. "It is wisest to speak at least in polite tones to those who have talents you know nothing of." There was a whisper of promise to her tone, a dare for him to find out just what she was hinting at. Never mind that he knew Zaffre could fly and breathe fire, or that she and her warriors could fight just from their ranks. There were other things.
But he seemed more preoccupied by the arrival of her dragon, and it was all the mare could do not to laugh at his surprised shout in comparison to the recognition and admiration that the sight of a dragon usual garnered. Alarm was something she'd expect on the field of battle, not in such a casual setting. "I take it you've never seen a dragon then?" She couldn't hide the humour that danced in her eyes. "His name is Zaffre, and he and I share a soul bond that only death can sever." The introduction was accented by Zaffre blowing out a brief streamer of flame, carefully aimed to not singe anyone or anything nearby, and trilling softly.
At last the youngster gave his name. Atlas. When he did inquire about the Foothills, it was with impudence. "You have worse manners than our own foals." She observed drily, but was not given the opportunity to say more when two massive stallions stepped from the tree cover with words that were almost a threat. Dark gaze glanced to them, recognizing their appearance even when their voices were unfamiliar. It was amusing for her to see just how many of her own herd had gathered here to deal with this young upstart, and all of them warriors.
Black tail swished against battle scarred gray haunches, just short of lashing against the hide of the blue who was quite comfortably crouched on top of them. "Would you like to try asking again?" She inquired calmly, politely. "It is wisest to speak at least in polite tones to those who have talents you know nothing of." There was a whisper of promise to her tone, a dare for him to find out just what she was hinting at. Never mind that he knew Zaffre could fly and breathe fire, or that she and her warriors could fight just from their ranks. There were other things.
