Wingbeats fwumped against the atmosphere, it was not often the stallion found cause to descend from the heights whilst on patrol. He was high in the sky, so high that his large wings probably looked like they belonged to an eagle, not a Pegasus. He had been using his magic to enhance his sight, all the better to watch for invaders, or visitors, without having them know he was present. Normally some clouds streaked the sky, but they were a rarity recently, though some sticky humidity still lingered. Blast this weather, he thought, having grown tired sooner than usual for employing his magic, normally humidity means rain, but this humidity only bring about foul tempers.

The horned fellow that had happened across the borders was spotted, and Azzuen made the easy descent to land before him, a subtle method of preventing him from walking further in unwelcomed. But the stallion was a respectful one, giving the other as much personal space as he felt necessary, and tilting his crown in acknowledgement. A rough smile was placed upon his lips, and while it wasn’t forced as such, it was only small as the heat threatened to tilt his mood to darker thoughts once more. “Greetings, stallion of the Edge.”

It was critical for Azzuen to know the scent of each of the lands, and he was able to identify the woody, cliffed smell of the World’s Edge upon this unicorn’s pelt. “I am Azzuen, Warrior here.Might I know your name and purpose?” His voice was dry, cracked like the earth they stood upon. “Our lake is full to the brim, you are welcome to join me if you like, I was about to take a dip.” It was in the Dragon’s Throat law to be civil towards all outsiders until they proved worthy of harsher treatment. Though when given the opportunity to make a decision between a winged stranger and a not-winged stranger, Azzuen would fly with the winged one, he was capable of civility, even comfortable enough (and trusting of his own abilities), to invite them deeper into the lands, to share their apparently untouched water source. Curiously he awaited a response.

Little did the unicorn stallion before him know, Azzuen was constantly receiving aid from his comrades. Only the thoughts of his beloved mate and daughter were keeping his temper even, and though he outwardly displayed a cool countenance, he was tense and ready to take action at any given point. He knew the importance of maintaining self-control, he more than anyone, for when he lost control his magic repelled everything away from him. So though the unicorn poked and prodded with his sharp words, the General of the Throat merely shifted his weight and resettled his wings upon his flanks, a charming smile adorning his façade. Though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, it was there, nonetheless.

“I would think a physician would know that size isn’t everything.” Dryly he commented on the other stallion’s observation. Azzuen’s mother was of even smaller stature than he was, and she ruled her lands with an iron grip and earned her respect through the loyalties and actions she promoted with her passionate ways. Obviously this stallion had never done anything substantial in life, had never earned the respect of his fellows nor inspired passion in his followers. “The appeal lies in having a home. The land itself matters little.” Arid vocals comment once more, and the stallion follows suit, dipping his crown down to the water’s surface, relishing the cool liquid travelling down his oesophagus.

“I only hope your purpose is friendly, for we hold no hostility towards outsiders unless they bring it themselves.” Azzuen spoke with an air of carelessness, like he didn’t mind whether the other brought good or bad tidings. But he did care, he was merely trying to extract some more information, however unwilling the other was to give it. “It is a curious thing, for you to be unable to find the land’s appeal, and yet wander here anyway. Are you masochistic, or simply curious?” A wry smile tickled the corners of his lips, though the heat and presence of the unicorn unsettled him, he was on his own turf, where he knew the lands, and there was only one other, who had not proven to be a threat (yet).

“So you’re here, in hell, surveying the lands so that you might know them better should a battle ever occur?”

The stallion posed the question easily, a rough smile carved into his roguish façade. Though the unicorn claimed not to be hostile, his actions were clear; he was getting to know the lands, getting to know his potential enemies.

“It is saddening that you feel yourself incapable of crushing the ‘lot of us’ on your lonesome. Fortunate for me, I suppose.”

Again he jibed, his tongue tiredly shaping the words into dry, sarcastic tones. They weren’t completely taunting, only subtly menacing, meant to stir a reaction in this dark, devious creature. Always guarded, Azzuen had not dipped his crown to the water’s edge, preferring to keep his keen eyes upon the steed.

“If a question was pointless then there would be no need to ask it. What is your purpose?”

He was probing, asking directly now for information that this guest should give. Unicorns, he thought, perhaps this was why mother never liked them. He was from racist blood, extraordinarily racist blood. His mother had once entered into a pact with the Unicorns, until the fiery brute Ignatius double-crossed her. He failed though, and ended up losing his life, and she earned the title FireSlayer. As it was, he was attempting to allow his opinions to be formed on an individual basis, he supposed even a Pegasus could act in such an ignorant, discourteous manner, though he knew none off the top of his head. Hitching a hindleg on its toe, he gave the impression of being at ease, with his wings held slightly out to allow some kind of air circulation to cool his feathers.