Dramyrth ate. He could feel his bonded's heartbeat just as clearly as his own and so was unconcerned, for now, about her little fainting act. All the little dragonKing was concerned about right now was eating. And his beloved heart had delivered a bountiful feast for him - he was unaware of his eminence, of the power and reach of the bond to stretch beyond the rims of his eggshell and inspire his bonded-to-be to hunt for him before even the frist crack appeared. Unaware, and yet, had he been aware, he would have simply scoffed in very much an of course, manner - such a thing was to be expected; for he was a dragonKing, a golden, royal by blood and scale and magnificent by gender and the sheer force of his will.

Others came. They intruded upon his space, and he roared.

Well, he tried.

Flapping his still-wet wings and screaming his pitchy cry, he hissed and spat at the red and gold who intruded, swinging his tail and scooping his wings to bring his hoard (leftover hare) closer to his body. A great titan of a beast was approaching too, and though he was small and barely seconds old, Dramyrth growled and grumbled, abandoning his meal to leap to his bonded's shoulder and face this behemoth directly.

At least, that's what he tried to do.

It wasn't so much a leap as a (very dignified) scramble-and-climb up her side, until he was facing the skull-marked beast. "Roaring" again, he lashed his tail against his bonded's matching scales, not enough to cause damage to her but certainly enough to rouse her - better than Volterra's unhelpful (at least in Dramyrth's mind) nudging.

Amaris was in a semiconscious state. Outwardly, she appeared asleep, but she still twitched and tremored when her name was said, and the stallion's nose dared to touch her. But her mind took her on another journey. Nothing could have prepared her for the weight of another's entire soul enveloping, immersing, and bonded to her own, not even her magic, which only imitated the bond in (she now realised) a much smaller way. The seconds where she was "asleep", she was taken on an inner journey, where she felt like she could see and touch her very soul - it was as if she looked at it now and saw something different to what she had expected. Now her soul was more than just hers, now, it was his too.

Bonded.

The dragonmare woke, eyes blinking dolefully as ears spun and pinned at the cacophony. "Do hush," she said, her voice clear, tainted with amusement as her thoughts collected again and realised everything that was going on. Rolling up to her side, she laughed lightly as Dramyrth moved to maintain his position on her withers. Looking up and over, she smiled warmly at Volterra, eyes glistening with something that could only be described as enlightenment, even as Dramyrth settled (albeit slightly grumpily) amongst the caramel strands of the base of her mane and neck. "Who would have thought one soul could pack quite so much punch," she commented, trying to explain her posture, still not exactly sure what had happened.

It was soft, the extra voice that uttered her name, but she heard it all the same. Ears perked as she looked between Volterra's feathered limbs, curious to know who else might have seen her in this moment of weakness. She felt an unexpected relief wash over her as she saw Mesec, not because she saw him as nonthreatening, but because she trusted him - (possibly more than she trusted the great behemoth leaning over her). With a gentle call she welcomed the Nightwind and his zephyr, before gathering herself in preparation to stand.

Rising carefully so as not to knock into Volterra (Dramyrth hissed when her body inevitably came near his during the motion) or dislodge her bonded (still such a new, exciting concept), Amaris raised her wings slightly off her body and let the chilly air cool her surprisingly warmed hide. "Thank you," she said to Volterra, turning to touch her maw to his in greeting (much to the continued displeasure of her bonded), before turning to greet Mesec more properly. Dramyrth's grumbles quietened as the mare walked, the bond between them was a two-way current, but Amaris seemed impervious to her little king's ill feelings and flooded him with pleasantness, with happiness and contentedness. And Dramyrth was content, he was satisfied, and pleased, with his bondmate - it was his bondmate's choice in friends he didn't necessarily agree with.

"Mesec," she greeted, reaching her muzzle out to him to greet him in the warm exchange of breath and touch. A curious growl emanated from the little king, but he did not object to the dark tribrid's nearness nearly as much as he had to Volterra's - and until he learned to better voice his thoughts, Amaris would remain ignorant as to the cause.

"His name is Dramyrth," she intoned, letting her draconic lilt enter her tones to colour and pronounce the title the way it should be. A small frown touched her brow, as she sought out Volterra's ruby pools once again, questioning quietly, knowing he held almost as much knowledge as she did on everything dragon.

"He's a King.. A gold King."