Had it been any other day, the mare would have waited with impatient dancing or swaying, eager to meet friends and prove to them that she could be useful. Unfortunately for her, this was not any other day. The sorrow of her friend's death so fresh in her mind kept her rather still. It was probably for the best. The terrible heat that was plaguing the land made any movement an energy sapping endeavor. Luckily, she did not have to wait long. A black stallion appeared before her, and the blue eyed mare watched him with curiosity and interest. Had she been of clearer mind, she might have remembered him, as she was rather good at remembering faces. She had seen him once before, when the monstrous fire creature had crawled out from the depths of the Heart. But, be it her depression now or her pure terror then, Kahlua never even thought of having seen him before.

As he lowered his head, she did the same out of kindness and respect. She did not know his name or rank, he could really be anyone. Congratulations on your promotion, he began, and the kind words helped a little. The very corner of her lip tilted up into the gentle beginnings of a smile. It was pride. She had yearned so long for this power- both at her prior home and here at Helovia. Having finally attained it, the painted mare couldn't help but feel accomplished at the recognition. Repeating the stallion's name several times in her head, as was her habit, Kahlua then watched as the green dragon descended from above. Skittish as she was of most perceived dangers, she was finding living among dragons to be more normal than she ever would have. With the constant flights of Suli, Akaith and others above the land, it was hard not to get used to them. “She is beautiful,” she complimented, looking to the dragon as she spoke. “It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

As she fell silent and the stallion began his request, Kahlua listened with rapt attention. Just being in the company of another was giving her some relief from her constant and dwelling thoughts. She was a social mare, a real butterfly, and she drew strength and energy from the company of others. At the end of his two requests, Kahlua said nothing. Not because she was displeased, but rather because she was confused. Furrowing her brow and looking to the ground, Kahlua tried to imagine a harness and figure out exactly what he meant by mechanics. If kind, the poor girl was not very smart. Figuring she could not work with the hides that the lovely Suli had brought, Kahlua could only come to the conclusion that he meant connection pieces and bars to hold him to the plow he had requested.

“Of course,” she said finally, looking up at the stallion. “I would be happy to help.” His mention of the wall was a prod within her. She felt that she should have started the structure already, but she needed more time. Still, if he was willing to help, she must give him the tools he needed. Though she wanted to talk more to him, she also wanted to please him. Because it was easier for her to imagine, the girl began with the plow. Thinking it up thoroughly in her head, she closed her eyes for a moment then asked the mists to do her bidding. Like they had every time she asked before, they bent to her bidding and began to swirl into solidity. Slowly and mechanically, the object grew, pointed ends settled on the ground and an attachment bar with two slip-lock buckles at the other end. When it was built, the mare felt somewhat tired, but pleased with the thing.

Then the harness returned to her mind. Trying to get a clear picture of the object was still troubling her and, unsure of exactly what he wanted, she snorted in frustration. It was not at him, but rather at her inability to find and grasp onto a mental image. When she finally grasped onto the object enough that she could get a feel for it, the mare began work on two long bars to attack the harness to the plow. When they were done, she called upon the mists to form into a series of several buckles, loops, slip-lock buckles and D-rings. With several of each formed and settled into a pile before her, she looked again to the stallion. She hoped they would be enough. She could always make more as needed, of course. “I hope that these are to your liking,” she said finally, of the plow and rings. “Thank you for allowing me to work on them.” Finally, she found a soft smile creeping onto her face. The hard work she had put into the objects had given her some reprieve from her thoughts of death. At least for the moment, she was almost herself again.


OOC| Plow Inspiration, Harness Inspiration, Slip-Lock Buckle (just in case someone was confused about what those were)