I become aware of a strange tension between the two of us, and I fear that this friendship she seeks is something I am not yet ready or capable of handling. Arbutus, ever curious and intent on reaching the mare, clearly believes otherwise; but I'm in no position to act based on his emotion. Once more I turn and scold the young phoenix, harshly breathing in his face and ruffling the flames that burn along the crest of his head. I find it odd that he has chosen to remain on fire for so long, but cannot dispute his logic. If I had such an ability, I doubt I'd ever let down my cloak.

And then, just as I begin to feel uncomfortable with my wing upon her withers and wish to draw it away, she mirrors my action. The sensation is familiar from not too long ago, when Cassiopeia did the same thing, but I am still unused to such a physical form of comfort and affection. My gaze turns away both shyly and nervously, and I reply with a clear of my throat and a stuttered tone. "Soldier it is then, Aure. Welcome to the Dragon's Throat."

I wonder why she chooses this rank; why I did. I suppose we were both thinking the same thing when we signed up for it: it would be a job to protect, to save. I know for me I took the rank so no one would ever grow up like I have, so others could feel safety. Why I didn't leave it up to others better suited, why I had that sudden burst of sympathy and that great desire to change things with my own actions, I'm not sure. For some reason, however, I am left with my Father's name ringing in my ears.

She speaks of the sadness I seem to carry, and I wonder how I let it slip so easily. "I apologize for my reticence... I'm simply a reserved type," I comment with a backwards flick of my ears, embarrassed that my emotions were so clear without my knowledge. "The experiences in one's life shape them... which is why I understand your strong desire to remember your past. I simply haven't had many good ones. What you try to remember, I try to forget," I say with a sad gaze directed to my hooves, and a gentle and easy unfurling of my tail. "To me, there's no point on dwelling in the past when you can work instead to shape the future."

I am surprised at once by my sudden display of optimism. Arbutus spreads his wings and chirps brightly, letting the flames at last fall from his form as he hops over to greet Aure a bit more formally. I watch with contentment as he glides from my back to hers, and playfully begins to preen her wide, black wings. "He likes you," I add with a slight smile, feeling uncomfortable with the foreign expression. Still, I watch my charge as he hides beneath her black wings and pokes out his head joyously, making a game of it all by himself. It's hard not to smile at that.