amaris

As time dripped on, Amaris remembered one thing she had nearly forgotten about the colt that stood before her - he was not afraid to ask questions. The dragonmare watched as the red returned to his bondmate, and she felt that old craving rise up - yes, she wanted to use her magic, she needed to, and yet, she didn't. She refused it, even as the colt asked for it. "They are preoccupied with whatever it is spirits do in their spare time. Vérzés can meet them another time," she promised, her words spoken with kindness but underlined with a firm resolve that harboured no wavering from her decision. With a small surprise, she realised that she would indeed summon her dragons into this dimension again in the future, but she didn't know how far into the future that would be, nor what she would have to put herself through first, to find herself worthy of their companionship once more. But with this promise in place, to both herself and the red dragon perched atop Volterra's withers, she suddenly had the confidence that it would happen again.. No matter what.

She listened to his declaration of devotion with quiet judgement, though she felt that what he was saying was true enough, she did wonder just how his words had so swiftly gone to violent means. Did he think strength and prowess was being able to defeat one's enemies so completely that they never breathed another breath, never thought another thought that might eventuate your own downfall? Did he not believe in chances, in mercy, in leniency? She had to wonder, her thoughts contained to her own mind, not bouncing around others she might have normally called upon to discuss such things - now was not the day, not yet. Or was she being too harsh, too judgemental, jumping to conclusions she had little evidence to come to? Either way, Amaris allowed a small nod to move her chin in silent acceptance of his devotion to his dragon, though she gave nothing else away of her inner demons.

But his following words, and the bitterness that tainted them, only awoke those demons further - though Amaris could understand the passion that drove him to feel and speak this way (for the loss of family, the ones you love, was as good a reason as any to want to fight), she had to wonder why - and who. Just now, Amaris seemed to recognise the bald face that peered at her, the red eyes, the slightly unhinged passion. She hadn't dealt with the prisoner of the Throat directly, only observed from afar, learned to recognise the mare enough so that she could intervene should the mare seek an attempt to escape (again)… but still, as she considered Volterra before her, she wondered just who he was speaking of…

Could it be that she was one of his enemies?
Could it be that she held the power to help him?

"I am sorry to hear of your loss," the dragonmare began, speaking her words honestly - there was no greater terror than the idea of one's own family in peril. But was Confutatis truly in peril? Hadn't she created her own destiny, made her own choices, and fallen into her own prison of contempt and debauchery? "It is a comfort to know kin of mine will be guarded so passionately," she motioned to the red, the kin she spoke of - for all dragons were kin to the young queen, no matter how far back ne must look into the roots of history. "Where does your mother reside?" she asked finally, yearning to ask more, to spill out a dozen questions as the colt had done to her on their first meeting - alas, Amaris had better control of her tongue than that, and so hoped that this question would be sufficient enough to gleam the information she suddenly needed to know.

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@[Volterra]