"Of course he's real," the girl said, amusement glittering behind her eyes. The dragon huffed from her back, a small lick of flame puffing from his nostrils; he was taking far more offence to the comment than Amaris. Tulunka she murmured to him, only with her mind this time, reigning in the energy the little black longed to spout out. His mind was foreign and unusual, but the dragonmare could not give him the attention she wanted to just yet - Cathun was taking up the majority of her attention now. "Being deceased of body doesn't mean one's soul is gone forever. It is simply displaced, elsewhere. Having no body to hold your soul doesn't make one any less real." Of all the things she could have spoken of then - like the fact that they were apparently practically family - she was speaking of her magic, of the souls she brought from that otherness, her ability to breathe life, albeit temporarily, back into the souls of those who once frolicked through the realms of Helovia. Truly, Amaris felt something she couldn't fully define about the entire situation, a soft of confusion that mingled with a vague sense of betrayal.

The girl wanted to believe him, to be able to embrace him like the brother he reckoned himself to be, but she felt like there was a fracture between them, a gap filled with information that she hadn't been exposed to yet, a page missing from the encyclopaedia that described the lives of herself and all those involved in her life. It wasn't that she doubted the truth to his words, it was that she wanted to deny them, for some undefined, selfish reason. This sort of thing had the potential to change her world, and she was apprehensive about it, as anyone is about change. But her life had changed so much recently already - what was a long-lost sort-of relative-friend entering her life going to do?

He mentions magic, and dragons, how they were somewhat foreign concepts to him. The dragongirl raised a 'brow at this, for the colt very obviously existed through magic - the more time she spent in his presence, the more she recognised the feel of it, the almost burnt aftertaste that lingered in her throat upon digesting his scent, the way his mane and tail continually produced glowing embers, the way his eyes glowed with pure liquid magma… He was mystical, special in his own way, and as he stepped closer to her she did not rebuff the closure of distance nor retreat any. As the seconds trickled past, and his explanation came, she found herself letting go of the apprehension she felt, the doubt she longed to cling to (for it was nothing but an empty comfort to her), and suddenly felt her heart go out to him. Here she was, judging him just as many had judged her; here he was, afraid of the judgement he had clearly experienced in the past. How could she stand and be one of those prejudice bigots who had probably passed up many an opportunity based purely on what was on the surface? No, quite immediately the girl felt herself resolve to indeed embrace the colt as a brother, a comrade, a friend, to help him as his father had bid her, albeit in a roundabout way.

She smiled, a soft, genuine curling of her lips that shined behind her honey-gold eyes. Stepping closer to him, she extended her muzzle, more prepared for the contact now, recognising again the magic that thrummed through him as she felt his warmth. It reminded her of her time with the dragons of her father's realm, the creatures who had fire in their bellies and so rarely ever got cold (and if they did, they were surely ill). It reminded her of her father, with that same fire in his belly, embracing her in his strong grip. Just a simple touch, muzzle to muzzle, and the girl felt all the more at ease for the entire circumstance.

Of course, then the query arose about whether she could actually help him.

"There are crafters throughout Helovia, many of them generous, though they might still ask for compensation. Perhaps we should return to my home, the Dragon's Throat, and discuss it with Cera, our Forger. Or perhaps.." the girl was about to launch into an explanation of the Sun God, and how would surely be able to mend the broken talisman, but she didn't wish to overwhelm him with information (though he didn't seem to hesitate doing it to her). "Just how much did Lace tell you about Helovia?" she asked with a curious grin tugging on her lips.

[ ooc :: pretty much if he says "yep let's go" I can change his rank for you and we can get going, and continue on in the Throat ^_^ ]

Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart