As they were summoned, so they came. The World's Edge would always come when the Throat called, no matter who stood at the helm for the time being. As long as they stayed true to the ethics laid down by the Resolute, the dragon-hearted horses of the Qian would stand by their side. This wasn't the first time they came to listen to their Sun-blessed brethren, nor would it be the last.
Though, admittedly, for Lace it was the first time, and the ants that wrote havoc within his gut refused to let him forget it. This was his first season as a leader, and while it had been calm and peaceful so far he still couldn't get over how many things there were about governing a herd he hadn't known. From the sher number of tasks in a day to the way his brothers and sisters suddenly had begun to address him differently, it felt like he was walking in a state of constant surprise - like Fajira said, if he didn't watch out he might get stuck with that stupid wide-eyed expression forever.
It was a comfort then, that there were some who would never cease their efforts in shoving him back into the sole of his boots. As much as he was loath to admit it, the presence of Smoke on one side and Rishima on the other was the only thing that lent him enough strength to cross the open field with his the head held high. Actually, it was the thought of their laughter ringing in his ears for months after running away that drove him on, knees lifted in a proud dance and neck arched with a confidence he didn't feel.
"It would have been so much better if Mirage did this" he whimpered mentally to the dragon that flew on lazy wings above him, feeling a lurch to the stomach as he saw a huge stallion with giant black wings come in to land before a tall oak up ahead.
"Mirage already knows how this is done" she replied, unexpectedly gentle despite the laughter he felt lured somewhere in the back of her mind. "We still need learning. So listen well, and thing before you speak... all will be well.
"If only I had half of your confidence, this would be a dance on roses" he muttered back, but was able to breath a little calmer - she responded to his steadying mind by wrapping a mental tail around his shoulder, embracing him for support.
Somehow managing to keep a slightly inane mutter of things not to do or say from being repeated out loud, Lace stepped up to the stallions beneath the lone tree and dipped his head in polite greeting, ivory mane gleaming clean and pristine under the autumn sun; with light glittering upon the golden scars on the back and turning the sleek coat still in summer shroud into silver, he really looked the part of a WeyrLeader - at least Fajira said he did, and today he clung to her words like a drowning man to a straw of grass.
Throwing quick glances to the sides to make sure that his 'entourage' hadn't abandoned him, he took a deep breath and opened the mouth to speak.
"Greetings, brothers. I am Lace, WeyrLeader of the World's Edge. These are Smoke the WildRose, our head healer, and Rishima, sister of Mirage the DragonHeart - here in her stead." He hesitated, not sure if he should say more, afraid to speak too much; a suggestion from the dragon that came in to settle on his back made him nod again and then grow quiet, sincerely hoping that the two regal stallions before him couldn't see the nervous sweat beading in the creases of his skin.
He really wanted to hear what this all was about, so the attention would be taken from him and on to someone else...
@[Smoke], @[Rishima]
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[P] For a cause (Leaders from foothills, edge, asylum.)
