Very little went on in the Dark Forest that a certain shadow of a mare was not made aware of. A glimmer of gold shifted in the trees above, her scales glistening with health and vitality, catching the Sun's rays and tilting them downwards. The reptilian flyer enjoyed basking in the warmth of the Sun, it aided to fuel the fire within her belly, and move the oxygen about her vessels and veins. Her lean, muscular form leaned over a thick branch above, long, thin tail securing itself around another branch higher up so that she could lean even further. Curiously she watched this stallion make himself quite at home at the watering hole, providing a different perspective of his appearance that she relayed to her bonded, whom she could feel was not far away.

As light sometimes twists the images of objects in a heated desert, Mirage's magic worked in similar ways. The shadowy minx stood almost silently, only the gentle breeze of her breath passing through her nares potentially betraying her presence. But with the entire Forest breathing around them, she doubted the impact of her own respiration would cause detection of her whereabouts. A strange, shimmering, flickering image of a dark smudge of a mare sometimes came into view, if one bent their head around the nearest tree to attempt to focus upon her. Eyes of aureate splendour absorbed all they could of the stallion's appearance, noting the youthfulness of him, and yet the scars that suggested a life lived through struggling times.

He piqued her interest.


Abruptly, the mare came into view, a breath later, she began to move, with a strange, feline grace, lithe and lissom, the smooth arc of her nape hosting her finely carved tiara with a pleasant demeanour - she was neither hot nor cold in her outwardly appearance. With a gentle flutter of draconic wings, Akaith appeared upon the small of Mirage's back, as the mare entered the scene with a purpose yet to be revealed. Acknowledging the brute with a gentle tilting of her visage, a hint, a mere shadow of a smile might have tickled the edges of her maw, but it was gone before any lasting effects could curve the entirety of her velvet lips. "Hello." Honey-sweet melodies intoned, her strange accent evident even in the single word. "What brings you to the Dark Forest?"

Concern grew within the mare, as she closed the distance between them, and recognised the grimace of pain and discomfort the surprisingly fresh scars obviously caused the stallion. Mirage did not enjoy to see others in pain, and wished there was something she could have done to soothe it for him. Perhaps Akaith could have gathered some mossy leaves and soaked them, to aid in washing toxins from the wounds, which would lessen their overall scarring - but this was a strange stallion, an unknown, and the obsidian mare and golden dragon would be considered just as strange to he, she was sure.

He spoke, after some thought, the little shadow mare noted. She did not think him slow, but rather, different to most, a difference that may or may not hinder his survival in a realm as unforgiving as Helovia. He seems honest. The opinion was shared by her dragon, who peered over and around Mirage's lithe nape to view the steed clearly with her eyes that whirled a slow, curious viridian green.

"No herd lurks within these trees." Mirage informed him softly, but clearly, knowing that some found her accent more difficult than others, though most simply accepted it as part of her exotic and devious nature. "I am Mirage," she spoke, and for a second, a shimmer fell over her frame, an illusion that danced over her charred bodice and made it a blurry reconstruction, a true mirage. But it dripped away almost as soon as it had settled, and she continued her speech, indicating the queenly lizard upon her back. "This is Akaith."

Steps brought her closer to him, soon her shoulder was standing by his, but they were facing opposite directions, her left shoulder near his left, her eyes roaming over his flanks. Though she was shorter than he, her slender nape still lifted her tiara high enough to spy the damage wrought upon his hide, and she blew a silent breath over him, thoughtful as to how to proceed next. Stepping away once more, her visage lowered to the water, her velveteen lips dampened by the running stream, the cool liquid quenching a thirst that had risen.

"I can offer protection." She said as her chiselled crown rose once more, turning so that her eyes could convey the honesty with which she conducted herself. "Friendship. Security." The words were offered more so that the mare could gauge the reaction the stallion gave to them, whether he would comprehend them, appreciate them. She longed to know more about him, but was afraid to scare him away, or otherwise cause an end to his attempts of communication.

He softened further to her words, a reaction the coal hued mare welcomed, his eager smile and hopeful eyes screaming louder than his words ever could that he yearned for what she had to offer. Mirage was pleased by this, but also momentarily apprehensive; he placed so much trust in her, what if she could not deliver all that she promised? The mare was no liar; a trickster, maybe, but not a liar. Kindly she stepped closer to him, her golden eyes clinging to his own, willing her words to be understood. A small sadness appeared in her façade, but it was well hidden beneath her usually clear, emotionless palette.

"We care for those who call themselves Qian." Here, she extended her velvet muzzle to his shoulder, hoping to indicate that he too, was now considered Qian. "We protect those who cannot protect themselves." A shifting of weight, a gentle paw of the earth with her right foreleg. "We offer aid when aid can be offered." Chiselled features nodded slightly, hoping the steed of few words understood the concept of her kin, at the very least. Once again, she pressed her maw against his shoulder, blowing her warm breath over his muscular back. "Recognise my scent, it marks us all." Her words were firm here, serious. She wanted him to know that any who called themselves Qian had been scent marked by herself personally, that they could be trusted.

"We are wanderers, with no home." A small sigh erupted through her nostrils, interrupting the speech for an extra breath. That hint of sadness returned. "We must fight for a home." It was not a prospect Mirage liked to think about, but she was a WeyrLeader, without a Weyr to Lead, per se. So her thoughts had no choice but to think of ways to provide the necessities for her beloved kin, and she did look forward to the prospect of having a home. It was as the Moon Goddess had proclaimed; better they die trying for a homeland than slowly rotting in the wilds. Her gaze had dropped in the silent moments that had passed, but now it rose again, meeting his own with a renewed sharpness, vigour.

"Will you follow me, Gaspard?"

A worry, genuine and real, grew within her as she considered the stallion's reactions to her own actions, her words of honesty. He seemed put out that they had no place to call home, but warmth spread through her as she watched him swiftly transform his resolve. He stood taller, prouder, accentuating his tall, burly form. She could see the warrior within him then, the strength of his character rise to the occasion. It brought happiness to her, and when he reassured her with his strong voice, she openly smiled once more. She was glad, very glad, to call him an ally, a friend, a comrade.

"We are family then." Perhaps not in the traditional, blood-related sense of the word, but certainly the strength of the ties that bond them would become as close as that, for that was what the Qian embodied.

"How did you become a warrior?" Tell me about yourself.. her kind, curious eyes asked the steed, ears pressed forward, keenly interested in what answer he might give. She did want to ask after the scars, but would not press the issue; sometimes to relive one's past was as painful as the original event, she only wished to know of things that he was comfortable to share.