Gwyn was amazed. Her pupils dilated fully as she raced towards the scent of the other dragon. This was unlike when they had met Suli or Cynder. Gwyn needed to be near this dragon, to touch it, to take in its scent. Something was different, and the white princess nor her dark prince could lay their mind to what exactly it was. With outstretched, growing wings, Gwyneverre made her descent towards the silver. His scales, even in the darkness of the cave, glittered royally and Gwyn cooed softly. It was like a purr, deep and rumbling from the very depths of her chest. Though coldblooded in nature, the young dragoness could feel her body warming. Her fire-breathing glands were not completely developed, only enough to send embers and smoke from, but within her chest and belly one could see the orange and red hues mixing and lighting. Abraham, still confused, called out her name as the white youngling sent smoke rings towards Tinek. "Gwyneverre!"

However, suddenly, Abraham threw himself towards the wall. His feet scrambled for purchase as he stopped, heart pounding hard. He had seen the white and red unicorn momentarily, but his focus had shifted to Gwyn. He cursed himself for his foal-like ways, and his ears pinned to his crown. He felt his ears and cheeks grow hot with embarrassment, and he averted his eyes from the white queen and to her cloven hooves. He mumbled a swear under his breath before sighing deeply and looking back up to the girl. She spoke to him, and Abraham looked towards the dragons. Gwyneverre had moved close to Tinek, trying to rub her scaley muzzle over the male's chest. So that's it. It's a boy. Abraham thought quickly, no longer puzzled as to why his soulmate had been drawn to him so passionately. "Her name is Gwyneverre, and I am Abraham. Son of Circe and Archibald the Dauntless."

Abraham had rarely given his parents' names in his greetings, but it seemed necessary at this point. He needed this mare before him to know he was strong, more than just an awkward boy flailing after his dragon. Abraham cleared his throat and made eye contact with the mare before him, realizing they were more alike than different. She was stark white, opposite him, but from her head spiraled a great horn. Her hair was tipped in blood red, and he wondered if it was natural or if it was the blood of her enemies. Scowling some, Abraham took in a sharp breath when he realized that she, too, had mismatched eyes. The near yearling blinked in surprise. She was a hybrid and had heterochromia! She was also bound to a dragonheart.

Realizing that he had been staring for quite some time, Abraham cleared his throat again. However, before he could speak, his dragoness landed on his crown. Her general cold mood was melted and she cooed towards Ophelia as well. "What is your name? Where are you from?" the dark prince asked, embarrassed again that he had been staring for so long. Gwyn changed his attention, as she shifted from his crown to his rump. She hissed into the darkness, smoke rolling lightly from her iron jaws as she watched the painted mare approach. Gwyneverre did not like the looks of her, the way she walked and carried herself. Safe. Safe. She chanted, and Abraham knew she wanted to protect him. Shifting his weight, Abraham turned his body to stand parallel to Ophelia and watch the approaching, silent mare.