She seemed bored by his falsely spun yarn. Adonis didn’t blame her—he would’ve been as well. It seemed she could see right through Adonis’s fronts, just as she had been able to in the past. In fact, the similarities between this mare and Adonis’s lost love did not end there. Though it pained him to think about it, he found that they both had the same inky black coat and tresses, as well as the same general height. Sheila’s features had been more delicate and refined, but that was to be expected of an Arabian and of one younger than average. Sheila was definitely younger than this mare at the tender age of four; he could almost feel the age radiating from the minx before him; she seemed older and wiser, though she had not let herself soften in the least. Adonis could definitely respect that, as the elders in his herd had been nearly blind and definitely not as spry or of sound of mind as they had once been. She was collected, poised—elegant, even. Her dragon exuded effortless poise as well, though it was somewhat tainted by the glare that it directed at the stately stallion, presumably for lying. Idly, Adonis wondered if they could detect lies. The thought made him squirm a bit under the scaly reptile’s glare, though he was not truly frightened by it. He was more uncomfortable at being caught in a lie, which was an activity Adonis did not have much practice at. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight a bit, debating on whether or not to retract his former statement and hand over the truth. Sure, it was scandalous, but certainly, they had both seen scandal before. Before he could think about it too closely, the mare answered his most pressing question. “Indeed, she is a dragon, a queen one at that.” A queen dragon? What could that possibly mean? Adonis was even more intrigued by this, but he held his tongue. It was impolite to ask questions incessantly. “Akaith is her name, Mirage is my own.” So the dragon was a female. It did seem feminine to him somehow, perhaps it was the sharper corners of its eyes or the slender body. As Mirage said her own name, her body seemed to shift somehow—it was neither here nor there, not part of this time or place. It was only for a millisecond, and Adonis was sure his eyes were deceiving him. Shaking his head minutely to readjust, he rolled their names around a few times in his head, filing them away for later use. Feeling a bit of a spark light up in him after the dragon released him from her glare and instead chose to stare blankly at him; he decided to show his young age in his response to the duo.

“Pretty names for pretty ladies,” he said flatteringly, though it was clear flirtation was not his aim. He couldn’t bear to look at anyone in that way as long as Shelia still sucked in breath somewhere in the world. “My name’s Adonis.”

She had not asked for his name, but it was polite to give it anyways. The midday sun continued to shine down on the clearing, but Adonis was sure that it was worse for Mirage than it was for him due to her heat catching black coat. Swishing his grey tail, Adonis’s ears flicked to hear her next words. “You tread upon lands that bend to a different rhythm than most,” she said neutrally. The big stallion could see that. This place seemed alive in a way that his homelands had not been, though it also seemed much more sinister. Almost anxious, in a way, as if the woodland creatures and the equines waited with baited breath for something to happen. Part of Adonis liked it, and part of him wanted to turn tail and run the other way, back to the comforts and safety of home. I can’t exactly do that now, Adonis bitterly thought, my mother was the reason I got a mere banishment instead of my father actually killing me. I’d be fair game if I ever returned. So onward he forged down this foreign path, determined to make this life work for him, and the very first step to making a new life was to build it on truths instead of lies. Guiltily, he ducked his head as Mirage subtly hinted at her displeasure at his falsehood. “I too have heard many a story…” Sheepishly, he looked at the ground as he admitted the truth.

“You’ve probably heard enough to know that my story is false, then. I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s slightly scandalous, or at least it was back home. But I know that if I want to make a new life here I need to be who I am, not someone I made up in my head.”

Taking in a deep breath, Adonis started his tale, though it was a very abridged version. He didn’t want to bore Mirage, after all.

“I fell in love with a mare, her name is Shelia. This was a big deal because where I com from, things are much more… primitive, I guess would be the word. She was my father’s property and his alone, along with the rest of his band of mares and the foals he sired. It was wrong of us to love each other. But we did, and come springtime, she decided she wanted a foal. She knew I could never deny her anything, even if it was against my better judgment.”

His massive head bowed in shame, his ears lying back across his skull. He continued.

“When my father went to mate with her, she said she could not as she was already with child. He forced her to say who she had laid with; he hurt her until she told. He then turned on me, vowing to kill me whatever hell spawn came from her womb. My mother pleaded with him to leave me alive, and just to banish me. She could not beg the safety of my child from him, though. When it is born, my father will kill it. He knows not of love or family ties, only violence and dominance. I fear for both my love and the baby, but I cannot go back and save them now.”

Adonis’s voice was shaking by the end of his story. He looked so painfully young there, head bowed and radiating sadness, even if he was sixteen hands of muscle and stallion. He couldn’t believe he’d aired all his dirty laundry to this mare that was practically a complete stranger, but he felt a little bit of the weight on his shoulders lessen. It felt good to tell someone, to let their wisdom mull over his solutionless problem. It was his own fault, too—he could not blame Shelia or his father. Adonis had broken the rules, and now he must pay for his sins. Mirage spoke again, and her words instilled strength in him and made him find his purpose again. “What is it you seek to gain from arriving upon these borders today?” Raising his head, he spoke with a determined tone.

“I seek redemption and purpose, m’am. I want to make a difference in other’s lives, a good difference, so I can forgive myself of what I’ve done.”

ooc: Again, sorry for taking so long!