A figurine stood, as still and unmoving as the stone below it, as dark as the shadows cast by the sunlight striking the ridge, an outline of a mare, refined and sculpted, ancient and yet young, with breeding that spoke of eons of evolution, and magic that changed the very way in which blood gushed through her veins. The DragonHeart watched the ocean today, for it told a multitude of stories, that of life, of death, of darkness and light. The reflection of the sun and moon could be glimpsed upon its surface today, though the seas moved at the rate of the wind, if one allowed their gaze to swallow the entire horizon at once, it seemed to smooth over, become one large, reflective mirror. Perhaps if she stared at it long enough, the mysteries of the world would unfold before her, the answers to questions she has yet to think of would be revealed, everything that was the past, the present, the future, would become apparent. However, stare as she might with all the intensity of the golden orbs that were windows to her soul, nothing but the steady, repetitive, gushing thrum of the ocean's beat hinted to her of the little wisdoms of life, of continuity, of consistency and the strength to always return, to never give in even if adversity stands before you. Adversity in the ocean's case was the sand that it beat against, but still it beat, over and over again, until it managed to reclaim bits of land for itself, tucking the granules of sand down to its depths. Step by step, the ocean would eventually win.

A fishy, metallic twang seemed to pervade the senses of the mare, and with a snort she snapped her attention from the horizon, and wondered at where it came from. It was salty, rich, bloody, and strong, so strong it was as if she could feel the living, writhing creature slide down her throat in a delightful way of filling her stomach. As an equine, the thought made her nerves curdle uncomfortably, her skin prickle with unease, her entire bodice shiver with barely contained disgust. What are you doing? she asked the cause for these sensations, silently, through the bond that linked their souls together. Almost an instant later she shut her eyes, and was transported to the view of her bonded, who tugged happily, enthusiastically, pulling her attention away from the horizon, out of her own bodice even. A speedy scene flooded her senses, one of golden wings skimming the surface of the sea, talons and teeth dipping through the surface every now and then, grasping upon the slimy, wet, salty creatures that were swallowed still alive, thrashing and rolling down the long throat of the little queen. The sheer exhilaration of the little queen brought a smile to the DragonHeart's façade, and thoughts of discomfort were forgotten as from somewhere within her, she felt a shifting. Pulling her vision back to her own head, the mare began to walk, away from the edge, towards the treeline, carving out a clear path where she would be able to later run across. There was a bounce in her step, a certain measure of glee - she had wanted to try this for some time, now was as good an excuse as any.

From a distance away, she heard a trill, a song, a colourful jubilation of joy, and felt its glee invade the bond, felt the energy only increase her swaying step. Laughter, gentle and light, bubbled from her maw, as vague images of her mate standing as still and steady as a cormorant over a still pond flooded her mind, further brought on by the fact that her beloved bonded was not hesitating to test his resolve to hold his position as she rather abruptly landed upon his back, holding onto that same spike she always did, chittering away happily at the familiarity of his broad expanse of a back. Above them both, a little shadow positioned herself within the forest, facing the sheer drop that was the edge of her home, allowing herself a distance of at least one hundred metres before she would inevitably fall to the rocky depths below. But her bodice shimmered, and not with the magic that brought on an illusion; no, what she was doing was no illusion. The magic of Darkness worked real changes into her bodice, altering the very way she was built. But a dragon was not designed for running, and run she must in order to take the plunge over the edge. With an eager paw at the earth, the little shadow mare surged forward, breaths snorting harshly through her nostrils as she focussed upon the oncoming drop, and the magic that would ensure she lived as she dove off its peak. The pain that would normally distract her was felt, but it was ignored, controlled, governed into submission so that she could continue on this reckless, dangerous, crazy path.

Darkness seemed to whirl around her, until suddenly, the tattoo upon her neck glowed brightly, and seemed to burn away the charred, dark flesh of equine skin and fur, wings suddenly burst from her shoulders, as her nape elongated and curved, and a tail went sweeping out from behind her. Still she pushed herself on, maintaining the legs of an equine pushing her forward until the very moment that she reached the edge, and pushed herself off it. Akaith tilted her crown towards the area of the cliff that ran up beside them, viewing the scene of her bonded leaping from the sheer drop with little concern. You are such a hatchling, was all that the little queen said to her bonded, as with wings not yet unfurled, the now-shimmering, golden bodice of a great dragon plummeted to the ground. With a small huff, Akaith observed the way her bonded expertly opened her wings at just the right moment, to level her flight so that her wingtips dipped into the seas upon their downstroke, and her tail almost got swallowed by waves that seemed to chase her form as they surged upwards after crashing into the rocks that lined the edge of their territory. This was a land crafted for dragons, at least now, it had become such a land. Over the ocean she flew now, in a southerly direction, her great muscular form gliding easily over the great expanse of deep and mysterious blue. With a deep yet feminine song, she greeted both her mated and bonded, before tucking her wings to her side and diving below the water. Her bodice was shaped perfectly both for flight through the air and the depths of the sea, and she demonstrated that now as she held her titanic breath and flew for almost a minute without creating a ripple on the surface.

With great theatrics and many cascades of silver droplets spraying away from her, she soon surged upwards beating heavily to gain altitude again. Once a thermal rising off the steamy sand filled her leathery wings, she tilted her path towards that of her mate and bonded again, smiling a draconic, toothy smile around a large whiting. As her wings flapped up sand and salty water several strides away from where her bronze steed stood, she landed with grace and style, digging a trench in the pale granules with her clawed feet and thick, sinewy tail. Allowing herself a coy glance at her mate, she threw the whiting straight up, giving a small growl as Akaith mocked her by feinting to steal it, opening her deadly jaws to swallow it whole. With a click of her eyelids, she then settled herself in the sand that was beside the rocky pool Vikram had utilised as his fishing spot. The sand was like a coarse exfoliation for her scales, it felt good, and soon she found herself stretching out so that the sun's rays above could also warm her back. Lazily she looked at her mate, lifting a brow and allowing her gaze to become suggestive, bordering on seductive. Affection and love were dominant, running rampart within her, overflowing through the intensity of her gaze. Nothing needed to be said, words were never required between two souls who were so clearly, so painfully obviously, meant to be together.

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