.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
you will remember me for centuries
Amaris says the red's name, then its common-tongue meaning, and the colt's head lifts, pleasantly surprised that she knows what it means. "You know what his name means?" Could it be that she speaks the language of his family? He keeps his crimson gaze level on her, watching her body language, awaiting a reply to his question - but she dodges it, answering about her physical wellbeing rather than mental, and his eyes narrow somewhat. Her voice is sharp and he hides a wince, because whenever Mother's voice grows that barbed edge, a bite or kick usually follows. Whatever is troubling the dragoness it seems she doesn't want to talk about it, so the beastling reluctantly allows the topic to drop. For now, at least.
He's fairly easy to sidetrack, and swells with boyish pride when she asks how he bonded. He might be older now, darker, but he still has an almost childlike enthusiasm about dragons and is endlessly proud of how he came to meet his crimson companion. Vérzés turns back to him, powerful neck arched as he, too, prepares to listen to a tale he's heard hundreds of times before. "I came across a wild green in the Deep Forest," he begins. Such irony - a green, like his father's, and the Forest, where he first met Amaris. "She had been attacked by a massive bronze, her nest and eggs shattered. She was dying, and I stayed with her to protect her from any who may have wanted to torment her as she passed." He thinks unpleasantly of Abraham, torturing the dying. No mighty dragon deserved that. "I wanted her to be able to die with dignity, befitting her species. As she went, she gave me this look, and opened her wing - and there was Vérzés' egg. She'd managed to save it, just one egg, and she gave it to me." He swells visibly - he had received the blessing of a wild dragon. She had seen his strength, perhaps, to protect her egg, but also his empathy towards her regal species. She had blessed him.
He looks fondly down at his bonded. Sometimes he's hard on the red, as Mother is hard on him; they train relentlessly, as Volterra has no time for weakness. Sometimes they argue, sometimes he feels the dragon's childlike emotions bubbling with resentment as he's forced to fly against the howling wind, but always there is mutual respect and love. The black behemoth would die for his dragon, kill for him. Everything he'd wanted as a dreamy-eyed young child, he now has.
@[Amaris]
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
