The call resonated with her soul. It vibrated through her body, causing a great tremor to roll down her spine, through her limbs, to the very ends of her silken tresses. Above her, a gold dragon trilled a warbling response, a coo, an echoing warning to the surrounds of what was about to happen. It was time for a hunt, for bloodshed that would not damage the ties she held to those she loved. The little shadow mare, who walked as nothing more than a barely-visible mirage, stopped in her tracks, nostrils flared, eyes closing as ears slid to face backwards, her reeling mind slowly assessing what was happening.

Yes, she had been neglectful, despite her hopes that she could continue on. She had fallen into old habits, and hid away from the company of others, she had pondered launching into her travels across the globe once more, as she always did when something traumatic occurred. Her siblings understood her. They guarded the borders, preventing her from leaving by foot, confronting her, making her stare them down, forcing her to either transform to leave, or else defeat them in combat; neither of which she longed to do. If she were to traverse the earth, it would be on her own four feet.

But now, the call summoned her other form, forced it flare up within her, an intense burning fire ever-growing, consuming her, blinding her with its pain. It was intense, but short for all its pain, and as she opened her eyes, she saw the world through different lenses, optics that focussed upon different things; the movement of small animals, and audits that heard more deeply the vital signs of those around her; heartbeats, breaths taken, nervous twitching. All of it flooded her senses, and with a sharp glance to the golden companion in the tree above her, the DragonHeart flared her wings, and tipped her scaly crown back, muzzle pointed to the canopy.

The call that rumbled forth was pregnant with meaning and layered with purpose. It was a dragonsong that sung to all dragons and their kin, calling forth the hunt that would take place; the bloody feast that would eventuate. Within it held a promise too; those who were residents of the Edge, kin to the DragonHeart herself, would of course, be spared from this hunt, safe, from the licking flames and biting jaws of the dragons this evening. Coiling her powerful haunches, and then suddenly uncurling them, she was pushed into the air, trenches from her claws the only marks left behind, as her wings lifted her higher, and higher.

Once above the trees, she continued to climb, sucking in a deep breath of air, heating it within her stomach, letting it fuel the embers that resided within her belly, sparking them so that when she next opened her maw, hot, golden-lined-with-blue flames spurted from it, and continued to burst from it as she made her flight a spiral that increased in altitude and decreased in diameter, moving upwards, like an inverted cone. Around her, Akaith's form could be spotted. It was a beacon for any dragons who might not be nearby, a welcoming signal, a promise that bonded and wild dragons alike could join in this hunt, so long as they respected the laws of the Edge, which Akaith would impress upon them should they arrive.

Then she stopped; breathing, flying -everything. With her bodice pointed like an arrow to the evening sky, her wings folded to her sides, and her tiara curved backwards, extending itself so that until her body followed, she was looking at her tail over her back. Like a bullet she fell then, towards the canopy that was laced with mists, the comforting bounds of her home. Wings opened as she descended, and she curved her path smoothly flat again; as she flapped, the tips of her wings rustled the top of the snowy canopy, her tail moving like a rudder behind her as she aimed to find her mate and lover, the one who had summoned this body and the one who would share in her hunt.

Tonight, healing would be had; but not until some thing died.