The mare was quaking with nerves, and she was surprised by this, you see. That this stallion had indeed crept this close to her heart almost made her want to turn inwards and build that wall up again, to treat him with nothing more than cool indifference. But how could she do that, when her mind had been fused with his in the emergency procedure Akaith had performed. The dragon was flying low over the ruby pond, her wings skimming the surface, creating ripples and waves that lapped lazily at the edge upon which Mirage and Vikram stood. At least, Mirage was still standing. Following a deep, refreshing drink, the great brute eased his carcass lower to the ground, all the while the mare’s golden eyes watched him, making sure no other harm had come to him while he was out of her sights earlier on.

Akaith slowly retracted the hold she had upon him, and the vague touch of his consciousness Mirage could only describe as masculine, draconic and noble, was removed, and the mare was left with only her own and Akaith’s souls touching once more. It was a strange feeling, to know that another’s consciousness had come seemingly so close to her own, that the dragon she was bonded to had orchestrated the entire thing. Advanced telepathy indeed, Akaith had many years of practice in the art of making her thoughts and emotions known to Mirage, and while Mirage did not hold the ability to project her thoughts to others, Akaith sometimes could, when the situation called for it. Only a few times before had it ever happened, once many years ago, to the grulla steed, Gunslinger, and since then, her siblings, and Torasin. Now Vikram could be added to the list of those who had felt the majestic caress of Akaith’s mind.

The queen was gentle in her retreat, for the shock of feeling another’s mind against your own was just as terrifying as losing it, and after the pain that Vikram had suffered, and deflected through her, she knew he would probably feel mentally exhausted, and weakened from within by the whole experience. He is whole now. Her comment to Mirage was strange, the mare did not know exactly what the golden one meant by it. As Akaith tilted her wingspan to loop back and land beside the great stallion’s head, touching her scaly muzzle to his equine nose, she looked up to Mirage once more. He was able to exhale breath that carried flames now, she understood – he had finally been given the tools to fully embrace his draconic half. She wondered just how long he had felt so unfinished, incomplete, and pondered at how she herself had never really felt that way – most probably because she had had Akaith for so long, she couldn’t remember feeling that way.

Gaze tilted as his wings stretched out, one at a time, the mare appreciated just how large they were, how large they had to be in order to carry his masculine weight. The little shadow mare had experienced flight, albeit second hand, through the running commentary of her bonded. Concave soldiers captured his words, and that dark, shadowy smirk played across her lips, the devious little black mare could not help but say; “It seems we are both well practised at helping the other survive when pitted against dire circumstances.” Mentioning the experience of her slaying another steed, and remembering Vikram’s anger at her for not seeking his aid sooner, the mare spoke lightly, playfully, essentially aiming to stir some familiar energy within the stallion again – even if it was an energy that was in memory of an old anger once held. He had behaved dragonly that day, and now he was as much a dragon as he could possibly get, without altering any more of his physical appearance and genetics, anyway.