A sudden rumbling of the earth and the cacophony of a flock of birds taking to the air, fluttering wings in a multitude of color, is the only warning the filly gets. It is as if the shrubs on her left in all their budding green glory; newborn, spring green, fresh and soft and ever precious, explode outward and release cloud of gilded pollen. Fluttering insects in shape of butterflies, dragonflies, ladybugs and tiny fliers, almost appear to catch fire when they are dislodged from their perches, glowing and touched by the light in a wondrous display.

In the very center of the magical cloud, towering over the child-goddess as he leaps high over the bushes and into the glen, is a stallion with a coat made of all the precious metals of the world. Soft, oxidized silver enhances the glitter of purest gold, that dust the powerful back and shoulders and gleam in the depth of attentive orbs as they take take in their surroundings. The long silky mane flying from the neck holds the color of clouds, the same airy brightness flow behind as obsidian front hooves make contact with moist earth, digging deep into the black soil to find traction and propel him, forward. Ever forward, compelled by the rising spirits of springtime to run, run like he could become one with the sun and the wind if he only tried hard enough, ran fast enough.

He is leaping toward her with flaring nostrils and forwarded lobes, ground trembling beneath the feet as if to point out with which force he is approaching. He almost seem to be about to leap over her, when suddenly her presence is registered.

Eyes widen in a moment of surprise.

She wasn't a part of his calculations, not included when measuring the distance, the speed, the force of the leap. Now he is on a collision course with a foal not even half the size of himself, one who is the treasure and joy of not only the WildRose but all the other members of the Qian.
The outcome, should his massive bulk enhanced by speed and gravity crash into hers, is sure to be a tragic one.

The decision is made at the fraction of a second. Orders are sent to every muscle of the body. Before the rear legs manage to touch the ground every ounce of strength is shifted to the shoulders, to the sooted knees and the very nerves within the hooves, in order to push him out of course. It is but a minor adjustment, but as the powerful hind legs slam into the earth and push him forward, the strong body is propelled past her instead of making contact. In a surge of movement the stallion fly past her soft wings, close enough for the heat radiating from the muscles to be felt and to make the downy feathers flutter if the draft...

In his wake, like the pristine white tail of a minuscule comet, comes a tiny white dragon. She turn the scaled head and trill cheerfully at the sight of the daughter of fire - blissfully unaware of the start her bonded just had.

With the heart caught in the throat Lace then slammed on the breaks and skidded into a halt, raising a cloud of ash around the hooves before he managed to stop. Concerned, half unconvinced that he actually missed the girl, he spun around and breathed out in a heavy snort that send the nostrils quivering, relieved beyond belief upon seeing her unharmed.

"Israfel! What are you doing out here?" he exclaim with vocals deep and gentle, soft yet out of breath and colored by the shock of having her appear right before the feet. It's not hard to recognize the daughter of Smoke - he'd seen her as a mere newborn after all, and that white and gold coloration is rare even in a place as magical as Helovia.
Fajira joined in as Lace stepped closer to greet the girl with a warm breath and kind nibble of the forelock, fluttering like an oversized moth around the tiny light of the filly. "Does your mother know where you are?"