The white streak moved across the bleak landscape, wings spread as she glided just above the ground. Abraham stood at his brothers hip, his head resting against the grey's solid, youthful figure. The colt's eyelids were dropping rapidly over his oddly colored eyes, the sweet whisper of sleep teasing him gently. The youngling felt the knife of fatigue pluck at his hide while his bonded and his twin seemed to be stepping into liveliness. Every move Reginald made brought the onyx prince back to reality. After being shaken out of his sleep one too many times for his liking, Abraham lifted his crowned head. The hybrid colt shook his dome, forelock twisting around his horns greedily. A sigh escaped his dark lips. Abraham looked out towards Gwyn, now with a small, unlucky mouse between her young jaws. Abraham wished for her to join him, and she obeyed by the pull of his spirit. She tilted her own crowned head back and swallowed her morsel whole. Turning to look at him, Gwyn chirped and blinked her fiery eyes.

Shifting gently, she spread her wings and lifted off the ground, pumping herself to glide back towards the twins. A light song twirled from her lips as she landed on Abraham's withers, grasping onto his mane and highest measuring point with her draconian, clawed fingers. Abraham flinched at the sharpness of her digits scratching at his skin, but the colt bit his tongue. He would become numb in time as the scars took shape of her figure, and she would learn to become more skilled in managing her dangerous daggers.

Softly, then, Reginald spoke. It was louder than his usual whisper, and it grasped Abraham's attention fully. Abraham's dark ears flicked up, alert and erect, and a red flash of danger danced across his mind for the sake of Gwyneverre. "Where, brother?" Abraham asked, chin tucking slightly with the training of Circe a beacon in the back of his consciousness. Reginald had always told Abraham that strangers were not welcome in their meadow.

Neither mother nor father were in close range, and so the young knights would have to avenge their home from the bastardous hooves of whatever was coming. "What shall we do, Reginald?" He asked, tail flicking behind him in an annoyed manner. Gwyn, atop his crest clinging to his mane, growled lightly, even already in her young state feeding off of the emotions of her bondmate.