Afterwards, he could never quite remember what he had been doing during those long months of madness. What few memories he had were faded and vague, not unlike scenery beheld from a distance. Hazy, indistinct. Whenever he tried to recall places, faces and names he was left dissatisfied with a bad taste in his mouth, the way a spoiled apple haunt taste buds with a sensation that should have been pleasant but ended up disappointing. What he could remember were scenes of fire and destruction, pain ghosting through every limb and muscle and a distinct feeling of having aged - though nothing in his outward appearance would suggest that. No, on the outside Lace looked the same as he always had; scarred and branded, god-touched and with the vigor and strength of a stallion in his prime. If anything he was a bit thin over the ribs, but it was nothing compared to how he had looked this winter past, the slight fever that dimmed the amber eyed nothing at all when considering how only a season ago he had been ravaged by a raging inferno determined to consume him from the inside and out.

All things considered, he was lucky to have survived the plague. As Birdsong faded and the sun rose higher and hotter in the sky the grullo began to search his way back to his old stomping grounds. Succumbing to a sudden longing for familiar faces and well known terrain, he turned southward and roved through the deep forests, following winding animal trails and seldom used paths. He didn't hurry his steps, didn't run headlong beneath the shaded canopies - the pace was steady, slow, almost hesitant. While Lace did miss his friends, the horses he had considered as his family and home, he wasn't altogether convinced that they would be glad to see him. Hadn't he failed them? Hadn't he been in a position of power and responsibility only to leave them behind and run to save his own sorry ass? Guilt and shame were his constant companions, and never had he felt them weigh so heavily on him as they did now. Not even Fajira could manage to reassure him, because the white dragon felt just as irresponsible and traitorous as he. For one short season she had been a queen, ruled alongside her golden sister like an equal - there was no way a fall from such heights would leave them unscathed, the same as before.

Nevertheless they returned, because the alternative was too painful. Neither horse nor dragon felt any longing for the open road anymore, they weren't as young as they once had been. They longed for different things now, for peace and quiet and that fleeting tranquility that only came with stillness of mind. When the nights aged and sleep deepened they dreamed new dreams, of eggs in a nest and long legged foals prancing over flowering meadows, of someone to love and hold and stand by... None of that could be found without effort. None of it would be attained if he kept running away when things got rough, like he had so many times before.
This time they would return to stay, to make peace with themselves and others, and maybe manage to move on to something new, something better.

It was with mixed trepidation and anticipation they emerged into the forests of the Threshold, once more surrounded by the mingling scents of horses. Fajira warbled excitedly as she kept flitting to and fro among the tree trunks, pointing out tracks on the ground, every sign of movement in the shrubbery that might belong to a loved one. Lace nodded and smiled, and all the while his heart kept pounding furiously in the chest, a rapid beat urging him to forget all reservations and just charge on... It was just as well that they didn't come across anyone just yet, he wasn't even sure that he wasn't contagious anymore.

They heard her coming long before she broke through the underbrush to appear before them. At first they had tensed, Lace slowing to a near halt and readying to face whatever charging beast it might be, but then a rapid succession of images and sensations from the dragon made him shift; not quite relaxing, but at least not prepared to fight for his life anymore. Fajira gave off a jubilant screech as Tandavi and the kitsune appeared, swooping down to do loopy the loops around the moon-touched filly and blowing little puffs of fire and sparks in celebration of the reunion. The gold-backed stallion gave the red girl a smile that wasn't entirely effortless as she skidded to a halt in front of him, all while the feverish, haunted gaze roved hungrily, almost greedily over her youthful frame. Again and again he looked, taking in the sheen of her coat and the sandy grains that teased inky nostrils with their dusty scent, a telltale revelation of where she had been until just recently. She looked well, at least physically.

"Tandavi" he breathed, the soft tunes revealing relief and elation and that deep, bottomless tenderness reserved for the oh, so few mortals who had managed to nestle themselves into his heart. "I hoped you were... but I wasn't sure, couldn't be after..." His smile faded at the memory of the night when they had been separated, remembering how fire and death had descended upon them and her fleeing form as he'd stepped up to dance one final time.

Natraj lunged towards him, but Lace quickly backed away so the little fox couldn't touch him, expression wary and apologetic.
"Better not" he said to the kitsune and threw Tavi a quick look. "I don't know if I'm free from the disease, I don't want you to be infected... By the gods it's good to see you again!"

He sees the light die away in her gaze and hates himself for killing that rare smile. Lace gave his young friend a pleading look that urged her to try and understand his concerns, his fear of being the spark that kindled the flames of chaos once more. he didn't want to bring death and madness onto anyone, least of all to these two youngsters who had already seen too much. Fajira echo the sentiment by coming in to land on the filly's red back, careful not to nick the supple skin with her talons should she be allowed to settle; a soft purr spill from her half-open mouth, soothing as she tried to reassure Tandavi. There was no way they wouldn't be happy to see her, no way Lace would refrain from pulling her into the tightest of embraces - if he just could.

The stallion's worried expression brighten into a surprised smile however as the blonde filly burst out talking, stammering while revealing her gift.
"That's great" Lace said warmly. She doesn't have to finish the sentence for the horse and his dragon to understand the message. "I'm happy for you. Why the Throat though, why didn't you...?"

But he broke off before he had time to finish the question, distracted by the appearance of the strangers. Sooted ears ticked backwards ever so slightly as first an abnormally colored mare appeared (seeming suitably embarrassed at having barged into this rather private conversation) only to be joined by a stallion that smelled of predator and some odorous liquid that made the Silverthorn wrinkle his nose in distaste. The greeting of the stranger was met with a curt nod and a suspicious scrutiny that would have made Lace scoff indignantly had he received it from another - he could hear the White hiss faintly, barely able to contain her displeasure at the interruption.

"Can I help you?" he said quietly and slipped forward on quiet hooves, intending to move between Tandavi and the strangers. But as he did so he felt a sudden pressure start to mount in the head, a high pitched tone growing louder in his ears; he sucked in a breath but couldn't seem to chase the sensation that he didn't get any air. In sudden suspicion the seasoned old horse stared around, moving his gaze from horse to horse to see who was casting this magic - for surely that's what it had to be, it was the only explanation he could find for this peculiar sensation. He looked from Rostislav to Alija, then noticed the intensity of Tavi's gaze as she stared at the newcomers.

"Tandavi,!" he gasped sharply, the reprimand sharp and clear even despite his obviously winded state.