There was a time when Cera would have exploded with anger and sorrow at seeing his father leave or return from battle. In fact learning of Tio's desire to take over the Throat, and of Midas preparing for battle, Cera had done just that. That one outburst had matured him farther on the subject, knowing that Midas would obey Kri no matter the consequences. It was his father's nature, and Cera knew when he was older that he too would fight for his home if he had to, and hoped to lead a life as a decent warrior even as he strived towards becoming the crafter of the Throat. Somewhere between their fight and the moment where he stood beneath his armored, exhausted father, Cera had come to accept that he would always worry over whether the painted stallion would return home. There was no use trying to hide any of these emotions, the thoughts that tumbled sadly through his brain. Even if he tried, Midas would still see right through him. They were as transparent as glass to each other, and Cera frankly wouldn't have it any other way. Communication was key, and Cera enjoyed always knowing how Midas was feeling in the present time.

Soft, greeting brush and they are immediately reacquainted. Cera sighed softly, big emerald eyes glowing with happiness that returned after disappearing from the image of his father's stained and silvered bodice. It was hard for Cera not to be happy, of course. Ilaria, on the other hand, was more than content when she was noticed and greeted. She always had to make a statement, of course, and hated to be ignored, a spin-off of Cera's inability to be quiet. The red panda hated being blown off as a simple companion, and had an attitude to go with it if you annoyed her by doing so. Midas almost always passed that little test of hers, but she was fond of the stallion anyways and likely would forgive him anyways. Squeaking happily she flickered her bushy tail in joy at his response, and Cera rolled his eyes with a grin. Even in their private moment, they nudged each other back to awareness and away from their bubble of love. Both listened as attentively to Midas as the other, and Cera's thin shoulders drooped with relief when his fears were quelled, knowing Midas would not lie to him about his injuries. Obediently the lanky colt put his legs in motion, the idea of a bath soothing even to him. Though the wind was cooling in the air, muscles were still worked no matter what and a light sweat had fallen along his hips and neck.

Ilaria caught on to the image that flashed through Cera's mind, the Oasis with its sparkling waters. Hissing softly she moved back up to his head from where she'd wriggled her way back down to his shoulders. Ilaria wasn't a big fan of water, and preferred small puddles as opposed to large bodies that made her hiss like a startled cat. Making an odd growling sound of discontent, Ilaria's tail flickered harshly against the creamy ears of her bonded. Cera whined softly in return and shook his head slightly to remind her that he was aware of her hatred of the Oasis. Even after he proved to her time and again that he would never drop her from his head into the water, no matter how deep he went, Ilaria still resisted. The cherub wished to comfort her, but Midas' words jerked him harshly back to the conversation. Emeralds narrowed, anger seeping into normally bright orbs. "They didn't even show up? They just left their family, the people that rely on them, to a battle that you say they could never have handled?!" Indignation and rage filled every normally soft tone in his voice. Cera perhaps, being raised in a family with such strong bonds like the Throat, had fiercely strong ideas about loyalty and not abandoning your family. Even himself being abandoned by his mother could have added to that. The thought of Midas, or Kri, or Azzuen- Cera sent up a silent prayer to his father's mentor- ever leaving the Throat to an invasion made his skin itch, made him want to roar like a lion hidden inside a lamb. "They should never have been a leader!" he hissed fiercely, wings bristling and feathers becoming ruffled like an angry kitten. By then his pale hooves had found the edge of the water, and Ilaria's concern kept her firmly rooted and surprisingly silent. Without pause Cera strode into the slowly cooling liquid, ears so far back they risked flattening against his skull. Tail whipped fiercely at the ideas that flooded his brain, and he tried to quell the anger. Grandfather Earth and the wise old turtle had believed in him, told him that he was a good soul for not succumbing to hatred. Cera likely didn't have a bad bone in his body, but the irritation and need to yell at the unnamed leader made him rather touchy in that moment. Giving Midas room, Cera cooled his head and body simultaneously as he sank deep into the water. Sighing softly, he let mottled cream and white wings float weightlessly in the water beside him. Ilaria made a few noises of displeasure but said nothing, resorting to grooming and patting his ears awkwardly until they relaxed and the tight lines in his face faded away to relaxation. Anger did not suit him. Silence took the air then, and Cera let it. It was never awkward with Midas.