The sound of their footfalls were silenced by the dry earth and the aged grass that cloaked the ground beneath. For every breath he could scent the fading greenery around them, the subtly acrid smell of the dragons and the warm gusts that drifted from the mare by his side. In many ways it was a pleasant walk, nothing short of a stroll in this cathedral of mimicked fire, where the golden rays of sunlight granted a sense of nobility to even the smallest of details. The arching of the tree's branches, the strands of hair that persisted on obscuring his vision. The subtle nuances of warmth in her voice, as she spoke of her friends and family.

Lace listened quietly where he strode beside her, his shimmering metallic coat lending even further depth to her shadows as they contrasted against one another. Once she finished he allowed the quietness to drag out, only frowning slightly with sensitive ears twitching at the sound of the playing dragons.
"Tell me, Mirage" he said eventually, the voice deep and soft, but with a heavy undertone that reminded of tiredness. "How far would you go for your Qian? No doubt you would fight for them, that much I can tell. I can see it in your eyes, I hear it when you speak; you would go to great lengths for them, and it is only right and just..."

The stallion halted and turned his masked head towards her, a graveness resting in his eyes as he met gaze, unhesitating.
"I don't know anything about these lands" he continued, "but I know what must come from the quest you have set yourself on. Can you say for certain that it will be better for your kin to live in a land won through combat? Fire feeds from fire until there is nothing left. Are you prepared to make the world burn for their sake?"

He looked concerned where he stood, statuesque with the contours of muscle and bone painted by silver and sunlight. Yet the blood that ran in his veins was red still, and he had bled more times than he wanted to remember. For food and water, for beliefs, for vengeance against sins committed. All those causes, and yet he had not found any that justified all the violence that he had seen. It gave nothing, aided none and would only ever give temporary respite before it all turned to be thrown back into your face. Once you started a war it would never stop, and the hatred caused would end up consuming your life and all the happiness one should have been able to find.

All this he knew, and yet he wasn't trying to stop her. If she wanted to fight for a land that she might not need then that was up to her. Lace didn't want to commit himself to the role of warrior again, had no desire to join in with yet another futile war that had nothing to do with him. He wouldn't even try to talk her out of it; all he wanted to know was whether she had the resolve it took to make her loved ones bleed. It would come down to it, sooner or later. He only hoped that she would realize it now, rather than when these unknown souls needed her to be strong and unwavering.