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.