Pride fills my breast. I feel this way, you see, because my dearest Dirk is growing, a learning. Already his claws are capable of doing damage far more serious than when he was a kitten, and he is growing out of the tiny fluffball he once was and becoming leaner, and more co-ordinated. Ulrik and his machines might be a feat of mechanical engineering, but you, my dearest Dirk, are a masterpiece of biological functions. Hazel eyes track your movements, I stand silently, quietly, allowing you to hunt with growing expertise. Though you still retain some of your kitten chubbiness, it is soon giving way to the muscular and fit predator I know you are. Your brown and green eyes speak to me of the earth, the dark brown coat you boast matches my own. When you sit atop my withers, your paws gently clinging to the base of my mane, we are matching. There is nothing like this sensation of companionship, I never knew it was possible, and I am told that as we age together, we become closer still, my dear. Your purrs inform me of our shared pleasure at this thought.

Our encounter with the bronze mechanic left me yearning for more of his presence. I almost wonder if he possesses magic like my own, magic that unwittingly draws me closer, makes me need him more and more, like a drug. No, I think I would be able to detect such a thing, and anyway, such magic was only ever held by a female of my bloodline, as far as I am aware. Perhaps it is the simple fact that he fascinates me, and the Earth magic he possesses allows me admire him. He thinks differently to anyone else I have ever met, and when he does speak to me I feel the honesty radiating from him, as if he cannot lie. His physique is pleasing, and that he strokes my ego just enough to make me long for more of his complimentary words is enough to make me follow him blindly, more devoted to him than my so-called ‘King’, I am.

The cool environment is pleasing, though the earth grows soft, the edges of this realm hinting at drying out, the wrath of the Sun lord felt even in lands that were usually forever wrapped in winter. I am drawn here by the scent of him, my nose follows the earth closely and I allow myself to focus upon only him. Ahead of me I can see the outline of his marking, it glows, and shortly after, it inspires the metal before him to also glow. My footsteps pause, my eyes beholding the life that pours into his creation, and I am convinced that somehow, he is indeed a father to his creations. Though he does not give up his physical essence to the creations, he still imparts some of himself unto them, and inspires them to behave very much like they are living. I continue to step forward now, my hazel gaze locked onto the red glow of the hound’s eyes.

“A handsome creation.” I comment as I draw near, my voice rich with warmth and fondness. I speak quietly, for I did not wish to disturb the stallion, I found that he was quite handsome when he was so focussed upon his work – and yet I longed for him to focus upon me like that. My delicate lips reach out to the dark stallion, velveteen maw making to touch him in greetings wherever he might allow, whether that be simply upon his bronzed shoulder, or upon his own muzzle, was up to him. Dirk mewed a small greeting, his emotions matching mine for finding comfort and happiness in the presence of the engineer. I thought about offering a flower to the steed, as a decoration for his new weapon, though I doubted he would accept such a thing, surely he would consider it a petty and useless addition.

“You should name it.” I say instead, “at least so that those who encounter it have something to call it by.” I continue with a little explanation, because I think he might be opposed to naming his creation as much as he would decorating it with a flower.