With all the care and grace of a pissed off bull, I make my landing on the red earth a few paces from the gathering. My wings sound like blustered canvas sails as they expand, slowing my descent, the ground clapping heavily as my hooves meet the red rock and dust below. My body had fallen, rather sharply, like a heafty stone from the sky. My wings unfurl at the last moment, keeping my sturdy legs from crumbling under the pressure of meeting rock so quickly. Still, the movement jarrs them still, but I do not really care at this point. Luckily for the unicorns, they had found a rested area on the outskirts of my territory. Were it otherwise, I might have to chastise them for intruding, as well as making ridiculous requests like returning those we had rightfully stolen. I hold my wits about me, taking a deep breath, inhaling small particles of red dust that I had become accustomed to following me just about everywhere. The desert was beautiful, but it was messy.

Quick movements bring me forward, a trot bustling my form forward while wings fold against my side cleanly. I note that Azzuen has insinuated himself between Elizabeth and the black mare with a crimson mane, and I am thankful. You could not give me a thousand amulets to get close to that childish wench, unless it was to cleanly smack her over the head with a forcible wing. I come to stand, instead, on the opposite side of the bay colored mare that had spoken. Her honey eyes are warm, while my dark blue oceans are frigid. Azzuen speaks as I come to a halt, wind whistling through my mane as I take in our company.

One stallion looks with murderous eyes at my General, and when I glance at him, I can see his nostrils flare with a violent breath seeping through. "If being in the presence of my kin bothers you so, stallion, perhaps you should have stayed at home." My words are harsh, cold, and called his bad manners out onto the table immediately. I want no sly words to be played here; let no mask hide the true intentions of these unicorns with guarded eyes, asking for gifts they have no resources to barter for.

"Welcome to the Dragon's Throat," I say, turning my attention back to the bay mare, the calmest of the gather. "I am Kri, though I believe we have met briefly before." Upon my return of Sno, the eldest child of the Frostheart, I can recall her sweet disposition from amid a crowd of angry souls. Even to an outsider who knew little of Mauja's band of unicorns, Lena had stood out as being different. "I do not wish to see the relations of our herds worsened, but Azzuen is right. What reason do we have to release those we hold captive? Your request is not enough."