Talk of mothers inevitably brought memories of her own dancing before her eyes. Her mother, Anei, named for the very creatures from which she was born, shadows. Stories of the Lady of the Night whom danced the dangerous step through life alongside the enormous, furious flame that was Voraer ran rampart within her, stories that she could never speak to another besides her own siblings; for they were the ones who told her of them. Only a year had she spent by the sides of her beloved parents, so young had she been forced to grow up, to learn that life was unfair, cruel, dark and desolate. Though the silver steed before her spoke with humour lacing his tones, a sense of kindred spirits also grazed the mare's conscience, as her golden eyes, so curious, and so openly, willingly ready to dive into his own, wondered at the breath of sadness that dared to mar the stallion's handsome façade. Of course, she then recalled his story - he had been trained a warrior from when he could walk, taken from the teats of his beloved maternal carer and forced into work. The mare could only imagine at that upbringing, and yet, she selfishly did not regret the life he had lived; for if he had lived it any other way, he probably would not be standing here before her, swiftly becoming a new friend whom she could trust. It was that moment she had glanced into his sadness that she felt her own weakness, her own small, subtle display of nostalgic depression, but it was one she had long learned to accept, though reflecting upon could have its negative effects sometimes. How she wished to shake Ahriman and tell him to stop running away from his mother, to treasure every moment he had with her - and yet, she instead recovered swiftly, and laughed an angelic, harmonic melody across the fields, both at Ahriman's and Lace's words to her.

"I've no intention of causing her to worry, fear not boys, we need only pray she sleeps deeply tonight so that we can slip you back in beside her without her knowing any different." With a playful smirk and a forgiving gaze the WeyrLeader allowed a winked to fold over her left eye, she rubbed her velvet maw against the little colt's shoulder with great affection. Despite his father, and the means of his conception, the mare was more than willing to allow the colt to grow into himself, to realise his full potential and prove it to the world. It was by her word that the Qian would protect him from the evils that undoubtedly blinded his father, a serpent-like stallion unworthy of being allowed to walk the same earth as they. The mare did wonder at just how much Daenerys shared with the colt, but would not interfere with matters that were definitely, better left to the capable hooves of the mother. An incredulous look crossed her face then, though it was still subtle in its animation - when one showed no emotions at all for most of the time, it only took very little for a great change to be apparent - as she refocussed upon Lace, knowing full well that his words were in jest, but feeling the need to reprimand him nonetheless. Akaith came to her rescue then, chortling a greeting to the young Ahriman, before flying low over Lace - too low, as one of her wings made to slap straight into his neck on her way past. It was a draconic equivalent of a slap upside the head of a foolish young boy. Musical tones entered the atmosphere again as the little shadow mare was reduced to soft, gentle laughter once again, amusement clear behind her eyes, that seemed to hold rich, dense droplets of gold within them.

"Busy indeed." She decided to simply nod her head, not even completely aware of what she was agreeing to now. Laughter helped to cleanse the oppressive sadness that sometimes wreaked havoc upon the precious balance of emotions Mirage kept heavily guarded within herself; she wondered at whether Lace had attempted to bring laughter from her throat on purpose, or if it was just happenstance that the situation allowed for such carefree abandon. A sigh racked her frame, divulging into a gentle, barely-there snort. "The time is drawing near. Ensuring the youngest of the Qian understand the importance of staying safe," her tones taunted the small colt with gentle playfulness, another nudge given before the mare slung her tiara over his form and held him close against her chest in an equine embrace, "in such delicate times takes as much effort as preparing one's body for… whatever may come." The Qian was about protecting loved ones; all who were a part of it became a loved one. Just because she was Leader did not mean she neglected anyone in the name of other duties; she was perfectly capable of being a babysitter, just as she would fight in the upcoming battle, she would later help Daenerys rock the child to sleep in their new home. Being Leader meant that they looked to her for guidance, that they respected her, loved her - it did not give her leave off any duties, rather it simply gave her more. Which was, in a way, a fortunate happenstance, for the little shadow did not enjoy to grow bored.