Amusement bubbled up within her, threatening to burst upon her façade in a tirade of laughter. But the mare remained cool and silent, watching as the stallion grew hotter by the second, unsettled by her presence and the probing queries she put forth. Oh, how she wanted to laugh at him, to mock him –but she did this, in her own way. Afraid of the dark, poor little prince. For he carried himself like one who was given royalty, not one who had earned it, and he spoke down to her –obviously unaware as to whom he was speaking to. The charcoal mare with bright, golden eyes merely looked at him, her stare sharp and penetrating, as if she was throwing a dart directly through his soul, and gave the appearance that she was simply bored, and tired of his antics.

The mare, Daenerys, however, was a different matter. Flicking her aureate pools to the maiden, her stare was just as penetrating, but seeing and reflecting something different; something kinder, and softer. Once again that shadow of a smile tickled the corners of her mouth, but it did not last, only its memory held in the minds of those present would it still exist. “The pleasant lands which I roam are vast and untamed; all of Helovia is my home, dear Daenerys.” Addressing the femme directly, Mirage remained uninterested in anything the stallion thought or did. “My friends are what make my home pleasant. Often they call me their WeyrLeader – we stand together as the Qian.” Her smooth voice intoned the lyrics with ease, her exotic accent making her all the more alluring, but also adding that flair of honesty and devotion that existed within her breast.

“The Qian is welcoming to those who wish to pledge their loyalties and friendships to me.” Her words were simple enough, and she continued to peer curiously at the mare, an ear slanted towards the brother to ensure he did nothing too stupid. Of course, Akaith had barely removed her unblinking, draconic stare from the stallion, keen to alert Mirage if he should stir trouble. “We offer protection and friendship, so that one is never alone, and a helping hoof is never far away.” The mare was intuitive enough to see the filth that laid within the stallion’s being, his spiteful words that were induced so easily from her simple, indifferent tones gave light to that almost immediately. But she was drawn to the mare, and she hoped the mare was similarly drawn to her, and all that she stood for.