The forest of the Threshold was but one place the Sun’s mighty rays were interrupted by the canopy of leaves and branches above. It created a mystic sort of wonderland beneath it. Though certainly not the thickest or densest forest the mare had ever travelled, she travelled it now for new reasons. Beforehand, the mare had travelled here simply to amuse herself, and perhaps gain an acquaintance here or there. What had actually eventuated was numerous friends had been found, and had supported her ideals and ambitions. She hoped to extend this friendship further now, and sought worthy souls to join her band who danced to the tune of the full moon – the Qian. They were small, but always growing. They were a family bonded not by blood but simple compassion and loyalty. They travelled together not because they had to, but because they wanted to. They did not call one single land within Helovia their home – yet – in fact some members were a part of herds. It was fine with the Weyrleader, for that was what Mirage was, for them to have their ties and friends outside of the Qian. The Qian was a group for those who yearned to belong somewhere, for those who were willing to give aid to their fellows, to enable one to never feel lonely. Such a beautiful concept, we will surely prosper. She hummed happily to her dragon, and the queenly beast responded in kind, a warm purring sound vibrating up from her gullet as she sat atop her bonded’s charred withers, watching the world go by with lazy, rainbow eyes.

The earthly mare that stood before her seemed somewhat tense, flightly. Athletic in build, Mirage surmised that she would be a swift mover, and agile on her neat hooves. The obsidian one made this assessment with her own bodice hidden from view, behind her magical veil, which she only dropped before those whom she felt deserved to see her sleek, raven bodice. Today was such a day, and as she angled herself around a copse of trees the illusion dripped away from her, and like a shadow rising from the depths of this very forest, she approached this newcomer. Tiara nodded politely to her, her liquid aureate pools absorbing what she could of the mare in a few seconds of critical observation. “Greetings, newcomer.” Her words were not unkind, and held an accent that labelled Mirage as a newcomer once upon a time, too. “You speak of something I am still yet to find.” The ebonite one referred to the single word she had detected from the mare’s lips as she was approaching; Home. “Maybe you would be interested in finding such a thing together.” It wasn’t posed as a question, more an open statement that invited the mare to elaborate onwards with her obvious yearning for a home. Akaith, still sitting atop her bonded’s withers, stretched like a feline might, before resettling herself down, enjoying the sun’s warming rays on her reptilian body. Would the mare prove worthy to hearing about this devious little mare’s ambitions?

The other was eager, kind and openly enthusiastic. Mirage watched in silent amusement as she correctly judged that the little shadow minx was not one to take kindly to being in congested situations, the only things she liked crowding her were the forests of the realm. Almost immediately this mare proffered her friendship, and a willing heart to find a home. Curiously the raven one listened, thinking the mare was perhaps a bit young – though, mostly everyone was young to her – and perhaps still a bit foolish. The maiden painted in the hues of the earth had not even inquired after her name, but much to Akaith’s pleasure, wanted to know more of dragons. The queenly lizard stood along the back of her bonded, her length from nose to tail tip was longer even than Mirage’s own body length, such was her age and maturity. The dragon arched her long nape, and flicked her thin whip-like tail to and fro, lifting her wings slightly to better bask before this happy observer.

“What is your name, kind, fair maiden?” A drip of benevolence was allowed to permeate her voice now, and the shadowy one prepared to present her views to the other. Speaking with some authority now, she introduced herself and her bonded. “I am Mirage, Weyrleader of the wandering group, the Qian, bonded to the queen Akaith.” She wondered whether the mare before her would understand the reference to her dragon. “The Qian embraces any who are willing to protect and in turn be protected by their fellows. Some members live in herdlands, some wander the lands as I do – but we are one as a family and stand together for what we believe in.” She kept the description of her little band as honest and concise as possible, curious as to the mare’s reaction. Akaith, having enjoyed the attention of another for a short while, grew restless, and with an energetic leap, alighted to the air and darted away amongst the canopy of trees.

The other mare seemed to react stiffly to Mirage’s introduction of leadership. The mare had placed herself fin that position because she had support to do so – it was not like she commanded her followers to fall in line behind her – they were loyal to her, and she to them, and she simply was the one who had brought those members of her group together, therefore she was most logical choice to be called Weyrleader. Mirage had not invited the mare into her group, merely explained what it was about, and she received silent amusement from the way the mare now second guessed her intentions. Perhaps that was Mirage’s own fault, perhaps she had approached the situation inappropriately – but if that were the case, it was only a small infraction of social acceptance. It wasn’t like Mirage was giving the mare a choice between following her or not, rather she was imparting information about herself, and the Qian very much was a large part of herself. If this mare wanted to join, she too had to prove herself worthy of joining.

“Mutual trust.” She spoke with a small curve to her lips, in response to themare’s question of ‘a catch’ to the situation. The two words symbolised the very core of the Qian; they were a band where one could trust, without question, their fellows. “Forgive me, I was merely speaking of matters close to my heart; you needn’t feel pressured into pledging yourself to me nor the Qian.” Accented tones explained why she had felt it necessary to bring her band up before. The Qian were a part of Mirage now, a part that she would never let go of, a part capable of growth and reduction through the ages. “I would be glad to gain your friendship, and aid you in your search.” Warmth entered her voice, honest and genuine care for the mare’s plight evident. “If you seek a herdland to rest your weary hooves upon, I am happy to travel with you, and introduce you to any whom I might know within the lands. Otherwise, you are more than welcome to accompany myself in my wanderings across the lands.” Mirage had many contacts, many alliances, it was why she was an optimum choice for a leader of a herd – even a blind soul could see that. But she was genuinely a kind mare (most of the time) and offered herself up freely to this maiden now. Tilting her tiara a fraction, she awaited a response.

[Just letting you know, Akaith is a female dragon (as all Golds are), you kept calling her a ‘him’ in your post :) ]

Mirage’s reply seemed to be sufficient enough to convince the mare of her honesty, and the charcoal one smiled softly at her eager change of pace, her open enthusiasm for wanting to join the Qian, meet her kin. The little shadow stepped forth, proffering her maw to the maiden, meaning to kindly touch upon her shoulder in an exchange of breaths, a trade of scents, so that she might know the mare’s scent amongst many others, and also so that her own scent might mark the mare as one of the Qian. It was a fairly common method of identifying one’s kin, and would aid the other maiden in future, Mirage hoped, should she mention her association with the shadowy leader of the group.

“The Qian would be glad to welcome you, Shirah. I often linger amongst the tall timbers of the Deep Forest; my call for a meet will resonate through there soon, keep your ears sharp.” She spoke warmly, hoping the mare who seemed prone to change her mind on the whim of a breeze had not already lost interest in the group. “You are still welcome to wander to a herdland of course, my brothers reside at the Foothills, and would be glad to offer their protective gaze over their fellow – they are hard to miss.”