Time; it was slipping away, second by second, moment by moment, memory by memory. Already half a season had passed, already so much filled that vast chasm of time and space since the instant the mists of the lands had embraced the devious, crafty little mare as their leader. These same mists held her now, like a lover would cradle his mistress' delicate crown at night before kissing her into sweet oblivion. It was a power, a life force, designed to offer temptation, a path where one could forget oneself, the duties and the promises made to others and the original purpose for one's very existence.

Temptation might attempt to strike at the golden, draconic heart of this mare, but she was no ordinary mare. Appearances lended no hints as to what truly lay within the creature, just another little black shadow, a smudge of darkness against the pale savannah of Frostfall. Long tendrils of delicately woven silk seemed to flow from the dock of her tail, swaying not only with the chilly breeze that dared to tickle her thick coat, but also by the command of the mistress, swinging and slapping cruelly, harshly, against the flanks, the target; a memory of an insect landing there in Tallsun.

Footfalls were muted, muffled, swallowed by the shallow expanse of snow that decorated what would otherwise be a sparsely grassed loam. Timbers rose, tall and intimidating, creating a path that could never be straight, direct, or clear. It was no matter to the mistress of darkness, every step of these lands she could retrace with her eyes tightly closed, even with the eyes of her companion closed also. Which would be foolish. Came the quip within her devious, tricky mind. A smirk printed itself upon her lips, before being swallowed by the abysmal darkness that was her usual, indifferent façade.

A song danced upon the mists, carried by the salty air, its origins unknown; unless one had heard the singsong tones before. Very few knew of the ancient language, fewer still remembered its true meaning, but this evening it was presented to the lands as a gift. What was it that inspired such beautiful song? What else could there be?

The maiden was a belle in love; a creature who truly had it all. Friends who not only offered their loyalty, but proved it time and time again. Friends who believed in her, who had made her the leader she was today. A land to call her own, a land blessed by the celestial one she had followed all her life. The herd was small still, but it was healthy, bound together by ties stronger than mere blood and polite words. They were held together by beliefs, by goals and ideals that were all intertwined; each of them needed the other in order to survive. And so, with these thought thrumming a strong, sure beat in her heart, she sung a melody that was accompanied by dragonsong.

"O mor henion i dhu:
Ely siriar, el sila
Ai! Aniron Undomiel

Tiro! El eria e mor
I 'lir en el luitha 'uren.
Ai! Aniron…"

As silence once more followed the lyrics, new, different tones wafted towards her, like the scent of grass after fresh rain; they were comforting, holding within them a promise of something more. A smile, true and broad, curved her dark lips now. With a clear purpose held firmly within her mind now, the mare walked that twisted, timber-filled path towards the very edge that gave her land its name. Akaith, who seemingly floated on the trees above her, joined in the deep tones of Vikram, colouring them with her unique method of creating music; a series of gently undulating warbles and trills, artfully and tastefully delivered so that they did not sully the original gift of song, but rather, improved and grew upon it.

Speaking of her deliverance, more tones were then proffered by the mare, their melody not completely dissimilar to the song her mate was hinting at with his absentminded humming.

"O la go la, mo thuras,
An bealach fada romham.
O oiche go hoiche, mo thuras,
na scealta nach mbeidh a choich."

Though the language had likely been forgotten through the ages, somehow the meaning often revealed itself in other ways. She sung it as the mists delivered her from the grass of the trees that stood several feet back from the edge of the cliffside, and her strides held a quite confidence, a pride and a humble knowledge that the one she loved, and whom loved her in return, stood so near now. Though they spent most nights resting side by side, it was rare, if not nigh unheard of, for leisure time to exist, and thus while their affections remained as true as the day they had declared them, quality time had certainly lessened.

It was so natural for the mare, to duck beneath a wing of her mate, press her small, petite frame against him as she pulled herself to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. His length of neck outstretched her own, but it mattered not - with the gentlest of tickles, she lipped at the areas of his neck and cheekbone that she could reach, blowing foggy air at the small space between them with a playful glint to her eye. A subtle, almost silent utterance of fond greetings left her lips, just as the golden dragon who was bonded to her, but often shared thoughts with Vikram, landed with a grace unique to her species upon the spiked back of the great stallion. Affection poured through the bond, most likely overflowing to touch against the stallion's mind, lest he had his mental guard built up to exclude such an intrusion.

"My love, the stars shine bright for us this evening." Exotically curled tones observed the twinkling, winking display of Lady Luna's delicate flowers bathing in their pool of everlasting midnight sky. The golden eyes of the mare seemed paler, muted in their hue, as the night sky proffered less illumination than that of the vibrant, golden rays of the Sun. A breath filled the lungs of the little mare then, her barrel expanding with contentness, no doubt rubbing herself further against the hide of her beloved. With it, she drank the scent of the realm, the ocean, as well as the very essences of her dragon-lover and dragon-bonded. It was a moment one would normally wish to freeze in time, to capture forever and never relinquish one's grasp upon.

It was a perfect moment.

[ Ok. I don't know how Vikram does this to me. Every. Single. Time. I am so sorry for the novel. This only took me 40 mins to write, whereas normally it takes me an hour to write a paragraph. I just.. Gr.

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