Not long had passed from the time of his spar with Isopia, the girl who transformed into a raven, but it was long enough. He regained full motion from the injuries to his legs, and his muscles no longer pulled in defiance against his efforts of training. In fact, the pain he had pushed through made him train even harder, bringing his strength toward something unfathomable. He was a colossal beast upon these salted sands, a sentinel of destruction and a harbinger of death. He prowled now, moving from the south, on the water-littered sands. He was looking for his next meal. Above him, white and gold flickered across the open expanse of the sky. Freedom incarnate in hellfire and frost, his dragons revelled in the idea of bringing another to their knees before the leviathan. Keen, sharp eyes danced across the open field of battle, searching out their next target. A shifting, dark figure caught the attention of the older white. Black dragon. She growled across their bond, motioning in the sky for Brienne to notice. Abraham could see the figure of its bondmate in the distance as his dragons simultaneously sent him images of the black reptile. Snorting, Abraham made the executive decision--these would be their dance partners.

Dragon ours. Brienne commanded, green eyes flashing with excitement. The frosted queen had not been able to reveal all of her glory in their last battle, and beneath her shimmering scales she yearned for the chance to dominate. She was a true war queen--there was no fragile part of her, nothing delicate about the way she cut through the skies or sliced with her talons. Gwyneverre beamed with pride at her younger sister. Although the golden was above her in their natural hierarchy, something was different between them. Abraham suspected it was because they were bonded to the same soul--his--and that Gwyneverre was older. Brienne admired the white and her strength, held her in high regard. With other dragons, however, it was always made dangerously clear that Brienne was a fucking alpha. Abraham smirked darkly, extending his trot to close the distance between him and the flickering image of the grullo before him.

Coming from the south, his scent was disguised in the salt scent that overpowered here. However, the behemoth made no means to hide the sound of his approach. The earth nearly bent and cried at his thunderous hooves. Muscles rippled beneath a sleek, healthy coat, easily displaying his dominance and lethal standing to any onlooker. His draconian companions still glided on the warm winds above him, quietly trilling commands to each other. Slowing to a walk, the stallion's neck arched and his chest swelled. Broad shoulders squared and his hips tightened. Mismatched eyes moved over the girl--no, the woman's frame hungrily. He felt no need to hide his intentions--today, the woman would bend to his will, his might, and his lust. "Dance with me." He commanded, guttural voice low and laced with poison and desire.

[PC: 0/3 | WC: 498 | You can attack first, Wanda!]