What are these magical tricks and happenings to a colt like him, who stands upon the precipice of something greater than them all, who commands magic to turn his body into power and fire made flesh and bone? Whose blood sings the songs of light and fire? Little, that prideful grumble in the back of his mind whispers, still, these magical creatures hold power he requires. He is still in the youthful summer of his foalhood, and there is a niggling wonder to be had in the world that demands his coltish inquisitiveness investigate and know.

Ashen wings carried him downward, on heated wind which washed over his form with each roll and bluster. He had spent much of his time by the Oasis when he wasn't on the mainland, seeking sweet, blessed reprieve in the cool waters and the shade beneath the canopy of tree's which dotted the sidelines. Being by the water was an enjoyable side benefit on the mainland, at least it would offer some reprieve from the acrid warmth with the backwash of Hidden Falls' misfortune this tallsun. He landed with an audible thump, cloven hooves dug into the chapped earth as his wings folded neatly at his sides. Others have already arrived, whether they were drawn by the impish sounds of laughter and glee from the radiant creatures or simply they were in the right place at the right time, is anyone's guess by the Colt's idle thought, not that he particularly cared why the rest of them had gathered. No, he spots his father and his brother present in the gathered bodies, their eyes and jaws focused and clenched, not bugled and slack as they joined in with the infantile coos and googly eyes.

"Szia Apa." He mumbled out in a quiet greeting as he came to stand beside Volterra, skull marked head lightly tilted to better look at what had brought them all here. He noted that Volterra's dragon's were decidedly absent for this get together, and he briefly wondered how far away they were. There were other companion's dotted around, had they accompanied their bonded in hopes of being of an extra pair of paws and talons for them to utilize? A small snort escaped him and he turned his thoughts and eyes away from the group and back onto the shimmering bodies.

He didn't fail to note the small red and white stallion smells of sweetness and delight, with minty undertones to the awfully strong influx of sugar which assaults his nostrils. The filly with the gnarled legs hadn't escaped his notice either, circling above the crowd like a battered swan still retaining a flicker of her ethereal beauty despite the obvious handicap.


They weren't the reason he was here, no the object that the creatures clearly had within their possession was why he was here, and why he was ready to compete against his brother and father for it.


"Talk."