The Sultan shifts his path and begins to trot towards the newcomer, his curiosity thoroughly piqued. Muscles ripple beneath the scarred onyx hide, hardened by the countless battles he's fought and enhanced by the difficult, scorching conditions that he calls home. His stride is fluid nonetheless, his pelt shimmering with only the thinnest sheen of sweat thanks to his prime fitness and physical strength. He is a king in every sense of the word, his neck thickened with testosterone and his head held high, as though adorning a physical manifestation of the crown he now wears.

"Dragonmare," come both voices, and the titan's gaze shifts with interest into the distance where he can just make out the hybrid form. There is only one dragonmare - Amaris. He has not seen her since her gold hatched, the first male gold in Helovian history, to his knowledge. It was a terrible shame that he never got to watch the creature grow to adulthood, but judging by the formidably-sized figure circling above, Dramyrth has grown well. Volterra's mind begins to pulse as Vadir's consciousness engulfs it, her fierce sense of dominance raging like a wildfire - she knows her bonded is eyeballing this golden male, and she does not like it.

What are you doing?! he asks the colossal dragoness as she begins to increase the pace of her flight, his eyes narrowing as he watches her. Her reply is swift, effective; "Showing him who is queen", comes the frosty voice, and her wings fold like paper planes as she soars towards the male. She's older than him, larger courtesy of her gender, more experienced because of her age; with a battle-shriek she seeks to approach from above, wings flaring to enhance her already massive size (she's the largest bonded dragon Volterra has ever come across, a fact she gleefully flaunts in the face of her red brother and that the Indomitable himself takes great pride in). Plummeting suddenly, she seeks to slam towards the male, trying to push him towards the ground to exert her dominance. This will be harder than it was with young Babel, and she uses far more force than she did on Isopia's hatchling - she is rough with her movements, although if she should succeed, she will not go as far as to actually smash him into the ground.

Aren't you supposed to have some sort of golden kinship with him? asks the Indomitable, but Vadir merely scoffs. "He gold, but he still male. Always lesser." The titan rolls his eyes but leaves his companion to it, feeling a gentle thrum of pride at the dominant nature his dragoness possesses. With a last glance upwards, he resumes his marching instead towards Amaris.

She is beautiful, it is hard not to notice that - indeed, he'd noticed it even when he was a boy for whom lust was an unfamiliar, futuristic wonderment. "Amaris," comes the great rumble of a voice, far deeper than it was last time they met. He flashes the hybrid mare a grin, before turning his attention to Astarot. Do his eyes deceive him, or does the young stallion seem to have as much of an interest in the beautiful dragonmare as his father does? Volterra raises a sardonic eyebrow towards his son, asking the question silently, but there's only amusement in his gaze and no malice. Astarot is a growing man, and it's good to see him interested in women. Those grandchildren won't make themselves. "Son," he greets, his voice softening as he addresses the young prince.

Vérzés lifts a paw and waves happily at Astarot's blue dragon. The red doesn't concern himself with the gold-on-gold action up in the skies; he has no time for what he perceives as rank stupidity. Volterra, meanwhile, looks Amaris, his expression inscrutable."It is good to see you back, Amaris. What brings you to the Throat?" Had she heard of its new Sultan, perhaps?