For it was not just water she saw. It was scales: golden, gleaming in the sunlight, tracing a pathway up from her maw and up the bony nasal passage of her nose - they lay where a blaze would lay on any other equine - any other who did not 'boast' dragonsblood in their veins. For years Amaris had resented the differentness of it, of her own body and self - only recently had she learned to accept it, embrace it, become it - Amaris was a queen dragon, if one where to define her by the colour of her scales, which so many seemed to do with dragons already, and yet in truth she was nothing but a wanderer, a vagabond, a rogue, living her life exploring and discovering things she didn't know she needed, and a missing a great many more things she most definitely knew she needed.
Amaris stared at the water, and she resisted the urge to criticise every scale as it stood so innocently, so strangely naturally (for her, at least), against the pale amber champagne sheen of her pelt. Amaris stared at the water, until her own caramel locks fell from behind her scaled ear, and broke the mirror's surface with a cascade of ripples forever expanding. Suddenly a child again, the dragongirl threw her tiara to the skies and skipped across the surface - chasing ripples, creating more, it didn't matter, she mused, suddenly filled with this new life she had embraced, and thrilled for recognising it within herself.
The dragonmare moved with her wings cupping the air and her tail swinging wide over the smooth shallows. Her feet dance lightly across the salty plains, her motions defined as nothing less than a dance.
…nothing here, the sound seems to boom, though it is a softly spoken musing of a lone unicorn standing in the midst of this mirror she dances upon. Amaris twirls so that she might hold this stranger within her golden sights, and calls with her voice that holds an exotic curl with its draconic lilt: "I am here."