The funnels of sunburnt rock reminded the stallion of the cliffs which he was born. He glided through them now, looking forward to the day when his daughter would race alongside him. She was too little for it yet, her wings too fresh and not yet strong enough to lift her from the ground. But with the exercises she enthusiastically embraced, her strength would grow quickly, and she had told him her intentions of following him around on his patrols. He loved her dearly, and her mother, and despite the loss of his brother saddening him, he dutifully tore himself away from their comforting sides and patrolled the lands he was growing to love dearly. His great wingspan almost scraped the edges of the high walls of the great channels of stone, and he was reminded constantly of his homelands, the Cliffs. With ease he performed basic training moves a warrior should keep as a regular part of his regime, sometimes flying quite low to the ground, even allowing his hooves to gallop underneath him, sometimes climbing great heights, all within the confines of the rocky walls.

He constantly surveyed his surrounds, sometimes enhancing his own sense of smell to enable him to read the winds before his sights might spy another body. The woody, forested scent of a stallion from lands to the North caused a small frown to mar his chiselled façade, and it wasn’t long before his vibrant electrically azure pools spied the spotted beast. Heading for water… just like the other one. He thought, reflecting on the last unicorn to come wandering here from the World’s Edge. A low melody was sung, his resonating baritones needed little effort to be made efficient enough to travel across the savannah. Altering his flight path, he circled the steed from above a moment, before landing, placing himself between the horned beast and the lake which was not far. Honestly, it’s at least polite to seek permission.. He was growing tired of the charades the unicorns were playing.

“Greetings.” His voice was dry, but not entirely unwelcoming – more guarded than anything else. “You are the second I have seen to travel from the Edge to our lands; I am Azzuen, Warrior here.” He didn’t feel it necessary to fluff his rank any higher than a regular warrior, much preferring to let the situation unfold before him, see if he was capable of earning respect rather than demanding it. “If I might know your name and purpose, I can lead you to our lake, where you are welcome to find respite, if you so desire.” Though Azzuen wasn’t sold on mere first impressions that this steed would be trustworthy, he had faith in his own abilities to remove a threat should the horned brute become one. Not only that, but the law of his land dictated that outsiders would be treated with the Throat’s hospitality until they threatened to break the peace – and that was something Azzuen was keenly aware of. His sharp gaze missed very little, his wings held slightly away from his flanks, not only to allow cool air flow through his feathers, but also to enable him to take flight in less than a second’s notice.

The slightly vacant expression the spotted one wore, with the tilting of his crown, caused Azzuen to assume that he knew not who else it was to come tromping through the Throat. He introduced himself with no title, but just as Azzuen was capable of hiding his rank, he guessed others could be as well. The other unicorn to come here had said he was the Moon Doctor, and he wondered why a physician would want to roam through lands he openly admitted to hating. Why would a simple stallion of the Edge be wandering in the Throat? He spoke his reason, and it sounded so… unfulfilling.

“Just stopping by to check the accuracy of the rumour mill?”

The question was posed in a manner that was almost, but not quite, playful. Had the other stallion been familiar, and not a complete stranger, a roguish smile and tilt to his cranium would have accompanied the tones. As it was, Azzuen raised a brow curiously at him, pondering what information to give, for it was evident that this stallion treasured his knowledge.

“The Pegasus waged a challenge, and the only one to stand against us fell.”

He gave the information he was asked for, in a quiet, respectful voice. It was not in respect of the fallen Ra that his tones were hushed, but rather the mighty warrior who faced the lion, who was also departed from this realm. Momentarily he looked over the lands they had won by his wings, breathing a small sigh. The lands themselves suited the Pegasus, for there were few obstacles for them to navigate, plentiful feed and water in their secluded oasis, and tunnels of wavy rockforms to train in. The sky was the limit for the winged creatures, they relished in not being tied down or hidden, they performed best where they could stretch their wings out. But was it worth the price they paid?

Yes, he reassured himself, defying any darker thoughts that might have stirred in response.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Mauja?” His tones were dry, tired, parched like the cracked land they stood on.

The frosty unicorn noted the tones of seriousness that infected his voice as he touched on the subject of their victory. He thought it strange, but of course, he didn’t know the whole story. “Every victory has its price.” Azzuen rolled his shoulder as a shrug, unwilling to reveal more on the circumstances of their win. Ears pricked as the horned beast stepped closer, and though he did not outwardly show it, he prepared for anything that might happen. Had he just invited an attack?

It seemed not, for the spotted one merely continued speaking, requesting the presence of their leader. Only a leader has the power to instil alliances; little Mauja, it seems you are more than what you let on. A small smirk tilted the edges of his mouth, and his handsome façade nodded in acquiescence. Then, he lifted his maw to the sky, aiming his deep, rumbling baritones to be carried by the rocks, making them much louder than they ordinarily would have been, easily sending the trumpet off across the desert too.

Abruptly, he opened his wings, but did not take off. The wingspan of Azzuen was the largest he had seen in the lands, a trait given to him from his mother’s line, and when spread they provided enough shade to easily cover the hide of Mauja and more, if he so desired. “Come, let us walk to the oasis, I am sure my leader would appreciate a meeting on lands less likely to roast one’s hooves off.” He motioned for the unicorn to follow him, but he wasn’t foolish enough to ever take his eyes off the steed.

Walking with his wings spread was easy for him, it was something he practised often, for it helped to build up the general endurance capabilities of the feathered appendages. Whether Mauja wanted to walk beneath them and escape some of the harsh sunlight was entirely up to him. Though he would have very much preferred to fly to the Oasis, bending the thermals of hot air rising off the desert sands to his will, he was not daft enough to tempt offending a visitor, especially a visitor whom he had gathered, held power.

[ ooc : obviously Boom’s away at the minute, but if you wanted to reply that they made it to the Oasis etc, then wait for her to return, Mauja and Kri could have their meeting? Let me know :-) ]