Raised voices, thundering hooves, the startled cry of a pale dragon as she takes to the sky, away from heavy feet capable of crushing wings and breaking bone. It all comes together as a sound of unrest, travel across the meadow and reach the ears of the grazing stallion. Alarmed the masked head jerks up from the ground, grass still grinding between ivories as muscles swell, legs bend and the silver-painted steed twirls around - always ready to move, on his guard, prepared for anything and nothing. He came cantering toward the group with a frown on the cobwebbed face, ears pricked forward as sun-kissed orbs flicker, back and forth to take in the situation. He see the white lady with crimson staining the silken tresses, see the black stallions he know to be related to Mirage. Faces he recognize, faces unknown; like that of the black brute, towering over even the fire-legged twins who block his path to Israfel, the daughter of his savior and possibly the greatest treasure the Edge possesses.
Fajira flew over to meet him and smacked into the face of the Glazier, wrapping limbs and tail around the dark nose while chattering with shrill voice to let him know what had happened - instantly forgetting that the bond is blocked, her words incomprehensible. He shrugged her off with a shake of the head, sending her tumbling through the sky until wings begin to beat again; aching over the silence between them, for denying her even the comforts of touch in favor for a group of horses brewing with misunderstandings and confusion.
"I don't know what is going on here, but everyone better calm down before the situation gets out of hand" he suggested with a tone that didn't tolerate complaints, and slowed down from gallop to trot, to a brisk walk that quickly carried him into the midst of the group, somewhere between the white-coated ladies and the black attackers and defenders. A glance was offered the winged foal, a gaze that quickly reassured him of her safety and doubting the truth of her words all at once. Why would the tall stallion want to harm her? Had it truly been Israfel who was the target of the Dauntless' fury? His eyes turned to regard the mare she sought comfort with, curious and suspicious all at once. Unknown, beautiful, and yet... something about the young dove, or rather the all too innocent look in her two-colored eyes made him feel cautious about her.
But however empty the peaceful girl seemed to be of fear or suspicion despite the sudden infestation of stallions around her, the real question was why the shire had decided that he had to intervene with a trumpeting voice and flying hooves. Pausing only to spare an acknowledging look and polite nod with the twins, Lace moved forward and offered the tall brute a polite greeting - knowing fully well that he'd be in for a hard time should negotiations break down.
"I am Lace, Glazier of World's Edge, bonded to Fajira the White and herdmate with the foal you just charged in on. If it's not too much trouble, I would like to hear an explanation as to why you think this would be necessary." The voice was calm, his posture steady with legs collected neatly beneath a muscled chest, an arched neck and with the pale tail hung like a banner from the powerful hindquarters.
There was no accusation in the gilded eyes as they calmly studied the much taller equine, nothing but cool patience - and an authority he wasn't even aware of himself, and would have been embarrassed over should he realize it. The impression was enhanced as the little white dragon flew in and landed upon his back, wings stretching to aid her in keeping balance where she stood; alert, interested, prepared to take action should it be necessary.
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