The mare listened intently, not least because she had to concentrate to comprehend the accented tones of the gryphon, but also because the details in the creature’s words were of great interest. A single brow tilted a mere couple of millimetres as scepticism dared to cross her façade in a shadowy hint of expressed emotions. But it was slight, and the mare berated herself not for showing it, but for feeling it at all; she knew better than to doubt the freely offered wisdom of others. At the same time, not all wisdom fitted all situations. This creature knew not of their family, or their volatile conflictions that arose from the blood which coursed through their veins. Though Rishima was technically not biologically related, she was raised by the same, and Mirage knew that she was as much her sister as her brothers were her their brothers.

The conversation seemed to pull Rishima from her funk, the old, familiar thirst for knowledge relighting behind those dark, fathomless eyes. The charred mare accepted her touch with easy forgiveness, she couldn’t help the guilt of suspecting her own actions, though unrelated directly to Rishima, might have been like salt to the freshly sliced wound for the moonlight maiden. There was more to it, she knew, and she would get to the bottom of it one day; soon. Silently, she knew she would probably require Akaith’s presence if she ever wanted to pry anything from her sister. But she would get there. Rishima spoke of not knowing what was inside her, and it was a sensation Mirage knew not exactly had to react. She had experienced the unknown caress of true, deep and unrequited love before, and wondered at its power, before recognising it and lavishing it upon her now soulmate, the draconic Vikram. But everything else, she had always been able to identify, control, change.

Except for that one time…

“This is how we vent.” Dryly she spoke, informing the bird-cat with tones that were neither rude nor all-knowing, merely factual. “They churn within us, every day is a struggle to control what could destroy not only ourselves, but those around us.” A wistful tone angled her words, the truth behind them thick in the air. Why she felt inclined to reveal such things to this beast she would never know, and she longed for Akaith’s presence to give her that extra angle on the situation. But she did not send the summons to her dragon, who was happily fortifying her nest for her clutch of eggs, though their laying and subsequent hatching was still months away yet. Controlling her emotions had become easier, she reflected, since Akaith’s burning soul became bonded to her own.

Once again she listened as the gryphon spoke of being their guardian, and then again of Isilme. But her beloved sister voiced the query that had almost formed in her own mouth, such was their similarity, and so she merely seconded the question with a polite, interested gaze continually watching the creature. Unawares that she did so, she found herself drawn closer to the snowy leoparded avian, tiara lowered to allow their sights to be on equal planes.