The dragon lands, and the wolf growls. Mal is no idiot, even for one so young. He knows that the claws and wings of the red beast before him far outweigh the meager weapons at his disposal. And yet, even the short duration he has been bonded to the mandible-marked filly has changed him. He might have been a playful wolf, might have been generous, brave, and altruistic. But her mind was warped and shaped him. His mistress does not fear death, and so neither does he. His white canines are revealed as his dark lips peel back. He lowers himself, as if ready to spring, guarding the carcass. The hackles are raised all along his spine and neck - but Tae does not come to his aid. Instead, she watches with piercing pale eyes, wondering how this extension of herself with fair against something so much more powerful.

A dark ear tilts backwards and Tae finally notices the sounds of Volterra's presence. Her head swivels, and the spark of adrenaline in her system causes her ghostly appearance to intensify, until she is nearly completely see-through. Like the wolf and dragon, Tae immediately recognizes Volterra's strength and physical dominance. Magic hums in her bones, though she doesn't doubt that others likely possess a higher magnitude of strength than she does. The girl knows that she is young, but she is not afraid. Destiny is alight in her limbs and her soul; she knows that she will not die young. She has too much to do.

With a stare that welcomes and yields to Volterra's dominance and yet remains wholly sovereign and unafraid, Tae straights and exhales. As she does, her body begins to solidify, starting from the core and working outwards. 

Do you kill to feed your bonded, or simply because it's fun?

A sleek and mischevious - and one day, sexually charged - smile spreads her bi-coloured lips. The mandible marking creases over her jaw, as if the toothy paint-job she bears is also amused. "Why not both?" Her voice is too big for her body - it sounds too old. It's both a growl and a whisper - and she appears to be both glaring and smiling simultaneously. 

Her pale gaze falls over the skull Volterra wears, to the golden dragon who she's only just now noticed. 

"You have two of them." She observed, her words falling heavily from her lips. Her Father had two companions ... and he was a great ruler. Was the same true of the skull-wearing behemoth? "Do you rule a herd?" She asked pointedly, her gaze narrowing as it shifted back to Volterra.