She was sleeping. A soft smile played on the lips of the stallion as he stood over the little bundle of dragon that lay curled up in the moss, her pallid scales caressed by and glittering in the light of the newly returned sun. How long had it been since he looked at the light of his life, truly looked without allowing his or her mental state to cloud what he saw? Now that the night had faded the gray equine felt reborn, refreshed in a way he hadn't thought possible. How long had it been since he was able to smile? He couldn't remember. It was like a dream, the memory of the past winter. A nightmare that slowly faded away as the dawn wiped away his worries, relief replacing the unease that had weighed down on the shoulders and threatened to crush all that he was.

Ever so gently Lace leaned down and let his muzzle run across Fajira's supple body, a tender gesture so filled with love that it would have felt embarrassing for anyone to watch, before he slipped away on quiet feet, determined not to disturb the sleeping princess. She needed all the rest she could get - the grapple with death had taken its toll on her in ways that not even the magic of the Moon could affect. She seemed more quiet now, more thoughtful as though some great truth had been revealed to her. Lace hadn't pried too much on what was up with her, instead he chose to simply be there, support her like she had steadied him - and waited, patiently, for her to come around.

Breathing deeply in the fresh spring air the stud slipped through the trees with the silence of a ghost, wading through the mist that once again had sunken to the ground, no longer glowing with firefly lights and starlight. Towards the ocean, to the hum of the sea and into the open air, where the wind could tug on his mane and blow life deep into the lungs.

"It's a good day to be alive, don't you think..." he smiled as he spotted Thor not far away, and with light steps danced over to the King whom he knew so little about. A closer look at the heavy pegasus made the smile fade on his lips however, and a look of concern entered the gilded eyes. Lace stopped next to the other and leaned over to breathe a huff of warm air over a bay shoulder in greeting, willing to provide company or leave - whichever way the other preferred it.

"What's wrong, for the GentleHeart to be troubled this morning?" he asked softly, quietly making himself comfortable by the edge of the cliff - still enjoying the wind and the scent of salt and seaweed and foreign horizons, but slightly more subdued.

Dim vales- and shadowy floods-
And cloudy-looking woods,
Whose forms we can't discover
For the tears that drip all over!
Huge moons there wax and wane-
Again- again- again-