Solomon gripped his bondmate's forelock as he spread himself over the poll and crest. His wings pulled tight onto his back while his tail waved behind him. His yellow serpent's eyes were wide with excitement, pleasure filling his body as he purred lowly and cat-like. The scents that filled this forest were plenty, and the young dragon was excited. He smelled his own kind here, as he had in other lands and herds they had visited. His small life was already filled with enrichment, but each time he felt comfortable in a place filled with dragons, Argen moved on. He would tell the young serpentine creature that there were none like him, and the bronze did not understand that. There were plenty of others like him! There were several dragons he had come to know in his month: Khal, a smoky silver belonging to a sweet old mare; Marinth, a wingless, snake-like red that matched her bonded's harsh mind; and, his favorite, a large golden queen adorned with two sets of wings and and underbelly covered in soft, elegant fur, named aptly Lady, bonded to a battle-born warmonger. There were many other nameless dragons of many colors Solomon had not met in the army of Lady and her commander, but Argen pressed that there were none like him.

Oh well, at least he had Argen.

His striped hooves struck the ground easy, his trot light and swift. His thick body moved through the trees with ease, his head bobbing to keep his youngling safe from low-hanging branches. The young warrior's body was hard from travel, his muscles tight and bulging as they rippled under his multi-toned pelt. The warmblood stallion was a sight to behold, his strong and able form gliding over the hard pressed earth gallantly with a shimmering bronze dragon atop his dull blonde mane. He was a fire moving through the trees, powerful and majestic and dangerous. His mind's gears moved like clockwork as he headed into the knew, unknown forest. Solomon's child's mind did not make him falter from his determination--he was looking for Helovia, and would not stop, save to recuperate from his travels and maybe find a warm mare to curl into for a night.

This forest was steaming with smells, and in the Tallsun evening, he was on high alert. This seemed like a melting pot of many different herds--strong scents rubbed against trees, but each scent was thicker in different directions. It was very similar to the shadowlands he had passed through, their forest burned down. He had not stayed long there, just past through without stopping, despite his tight and turning stomach that begged to be filled. The land, which looked as if giants had rummaged it and turned it upside down, gave him a bad feeling. He did not feel safe there, and behind every turn there was a nightcrawling, bloodthirsty creature to challenge the life of him and his companion. However, this forest did not make him that uneasy, and the sounds of birds chirping in the canopy above him soothed his heart from beating straight out of his chest with a hurried gallop. This forest was teaming with life and sound, and the shadows did not cast fear over his amber eyes.

It did not seem like merely minutes before the stallion and his reptile were joined. Argen's head snapped to attention at the sound of rustling leaves and snapping twigs. The approacher was coming from downwind, and despite his nostrils flaring greatly, he did not catch the scent. His ears pinned down into his blonde mane and he narrowed his sharp amber eyes, watching as the black and silver form moved from the trees. The unicorn--adorned with a careful white spiral from her forehead--stumbled and stopped, looking like a startled fawn. Argen's ears perked up and pressed towards her, and his defenses fell. She was elegant, and looked more startled than threatening. She looked delicate, but her height matched his, and her body gave way to hardy breeding of ancestors before her. Her black body carried the silver gene, as his did, and she was lightened with white markings and moon and stars hair. Bright green eyes were wide below her brow, and Argen took a step forward.

She was beautiful.

Solomon, as quick as a dart, went into the air and flashed towards the oncomer as she spoke. A childish, reptilian smile spread across his lips and gave way to razor teeth. He trilled loudly enough and caught a small patch of warm air, lifting to do a wide circle over the mare before landing on a branch about ten feet to her right and five feet above her head. The bronze waited to see what his bondmate would do, bright yellow eyes finding his form. "Hello." He wanted to tell her not to be afraid, that he did not hurt pretty little mares like her, but it would only be a half truth.

It was a desperate look of panic that Argen detected in her eyes as he came closer to her. She looked like she was ready to run away from him and he stood stock still for a moment, a breath, before stepping back a full step. He did not want her to run away. He needed her now, a satisfied smirk lighting his hard and handsome, yet boyish features. We made it, Solomon. He telepathically sent to the bronze youngling, watching down on them with yellow eyes. Amber eyes searched her face, but he was drawn to her emerald eyes mostly. Her beauty would not be lost on him, and he was glad this was the first face he met in Helovia. The land of the father that left him a bastard and his bronze dragon. He did not even know his name to ask this mare. Would she even know? She did not seem the sort to hang around stallions that lay colts in wombs and left. She did not seem the sort to hang around stallions, period. She was fearful of him, he knew, but he needed information now.

"Please, stay a moment." Argen's voice was gentle, but it was a rough tone with a hint of smooth molasses behind it's tenor tones. She spoke a peep, and Argen turn his body to the side some, looking sideways at her. Maybe she would feel less threatened if he were no longer facing her head on like an attacker. "Tell me about Helovia." The words that fell from his lips were no more a demand as they were a question, but his eyes held a seriousness in them that gave the impression he would not be leaving here without an answer, unsatisfied.

The breeze wafted gently between the trees, carrying the sweet smell of summer along and over his back, pulling at his woodsy musk to dance the wind's dance towards the filly. From his perch, Solomon watched with intrigued serpentine eyes. He stayed silent, tail curling around his clawed feet and his wings pulling in. The bronze sent his bondmate an image of a mare they had met in their travels. Her pelt was a dull ash color, faded from age and sun abuse, but her hair was white, and a white wolf followed her footsteps, bonded to her. She had been a silent warrior that stood under the command of the stallion bonded to the great golden dragon, fierce and able. She was opposite this filly before them now--large, powerful, in control, fearless. She was not beautiful like this little girl.

Her agreement at staying made Argen's smirk shift into a charmed smile. His tail danced just slightly over his hocks, the dull blonde plume full of the tangles that happen from travel. His mane did not hold the same tangles, as Solomon took it upon himself to keep it clean and neat, to use his personal perch and sleeping spot. Argen did not mind much, his companion was blood of his blood, and he shared his life now, sharing his body was the smallest of tokens. Solomon moved from Argen's shoulder to curl on the stallion's rump, between his croup and loin. The breeze was comforting him, as well as Argen's lifting mood. The roaned boy was shifting from a stone-glazed traveler, determined in each step, to a boy who held victory in his hands. The girl, while as beautiful as she was, held no dragon or no other companion, and Solomon lost interest like all children do. He yawned, laying his head down on the warm loin of his master, listening calmly.

Argen listened with ears still pressed intently on the filly before him. She spoke softly and meekly, and he was drinking in every word she said, as if she were the last remnants of water dripping from a stone in a never-ending desert. She spoke of herds and who was allowed to live there, as well as their patron deities. Argen's brow twisted as he listened, a truly studious look on his silver bay face. "I do not believe in gods." Argen said simply, voice trailing at the end, as if the statement were a straggling thought and not anything meant for the silver filly's ears. Tipping his shortly socked foot to relax his weight, Argen spoke again, this time his words more fluid and intended, "I cannot choose a herd to live in. I need to discover all of this Helovia before I nest." Solomon lifted his head briefly, a small puff of smoke, a sign of distaste, spilling from his muzzle. He did not want to travel any more.

He must have offended her. Up until this point, she had been a meek, solemn girl. The silver filly before him now, however, blurted her question. It was like a dam break--and Argen had not been a powerful wave. The silver bay roan lifted a brow and his chin, taken aback, slightly speechless. He scoffed lightly, "They aren't real. They're just immortal birds with magic. Everyone can get magic. What makes them godly?" Argen's ears flicked some, pinned momentarily before snapped back to listen to her coming words, if she chose them at all.

Argen had been raised to believe that all beings were equal. His grandfather, Tyradon, showed a preference for the equine species, but Lyanna knew that everything on the earth was born, then lived, and ended in death. These creatures that others called gods were merely mares and stallions that possessed immortal and master-level magic. They lay seed and birthed sons and daughters just like all others did, and it seemed that no one Argen met could agree on the same gods--who was more powerful, who was more kind, or who to pray to. He decided to stay away from believing in them as anything more than himself, and it kept him safe and he slept through the nights without missing a wink.