Scouting the borders of the World's Edge had become a daily activity for me, a duty that I had taken a liking to almost immediately since my arrival. It was when I headed out in the mornings that I enjoyed it most of all, before most had opened their eyes from slumber, and when the day was at its coolest. Very rarely had I ran into a trespasser, or even a wandering soul. I supposed part of the reason was the knowledge that my home was not one to be messed with, though that hadn't stopped the supposed Assassin group from trying to sneak past these very borders of which I currently walked. They had been foolish to try from the start, and though I couldn't be certain, I doubted they had been founded very long before I spotted their spy on the outskirts.

Despite the songs of birds on the crisp morning air, it was not difficult for me to pick out the sounds of multiple voices in the distance as I scouted. I was unable to decipher their words, but they sounded plentiful, and immediately my attention had been pulled away from the task at hand. It didn't sound like a scuffle, especially when I took notice that many of the voices were those of children. With a tilt of my head, I turned towards the source and moved into the lengthy trot that was unique to my breed, knees snapping high as I quickly covered ground.

When I happened across the group, I was surprised to see so many little ones pining for the attention of our pale guest. The winged filly I was not familiar with, but I recalled both the cremello and the golden children from the herd meeting not so long ago. My eyes were warm as I regarded them, dipping my head in a gentle form of greeting. I might have taken joy in conversing with them, but there seemed to be other matters to attend to, first. Casting my gaze to the pale stud, I firstly noticed the azure horn spiraling from the middle of his head, and then the markings of equal color that marred his body. The lad could not be too old, for while he stood above the fillies, he had yet to fill out completely. The snowy mare I know to be Gossamer speaks a greeting to our guest, as do the youngsters of our land, followed by a myriad of other speech.

I chuckle softly, then give the young stud a dip of my head, just as I had done to the rest. "And I am Destrier, Wingleader of the World's Edge. For now, it would seem I would need to leave the reasoning behind the stud's appearance to Gossamer, for we had another visitor.

A memory flashes in my mind, of Mirage's golden dragon, Akaith, warning me of a stallion that was not to intrude upon these lands anymore. The image that had been flashed into his mind was of this very stallion I now found myself looking upon, and while I found a part of me wanted nothing more than to lash out at this fool for not leaving at once, I knew that would mean betraying my true nature. I turn towards the hybrid, taking note of the curvature in his dual horns, and the golden wings that hang upon his withers. He wishes to speak with Thor, one of our dearest Weyrleaders, and sounds to be in a hurry. Instantly, I feel apprehensive and step closer, unhampered by his larger size and possession of horns.

"I do not know your name, stallion," he speak up, for it is only the truth, "But by the order of Mirage the Dragonheart, you are not welcome upon these lands. Please, take your leave at once, or I will be forced to take action."

"blather blather blather"