Yes, much had happened. The invasion of the Foothills was a tragedy, one made all the worse due to the circumstances upon which it unfolded - Mirage felt like she had betrayed the lands of the Foothills, but how could she fight for them, when doing so would jeopardise her relationship with the Dragon's Throat? Her friendship with Kri had existed for years, where her alliance with the Foothills had been official on and off, with the change in leadership being such a common-day occurrence - she had not even met with the former Chief, Jackal.

The WeyrLeader's mind was awhirl with the happenings, but it was not the first time she had felt the weight of a million responsibilities settle upon her shoulders. Still, the sensation never became 'easier' to bear, always it caused some amount of stress, some amount of fatigue, some deep want to unload this burden. She bore it willingly, however, even if the original responsibility was placed upon her by others who chose to follow her, who elected her their leader even though she had not placed herself forth as an option. She had always strived for such things as equal opportunity, balance and peace, it was humbly surprising for her to find others that believed the same, that agreed with her methods for attaining such things.

The little wraith could smell the change in the wind, the humidity that rolled in off the sea. Along the cliffside she walked, a shadowy wraith outlined by a rising sun and an ominous sky. Above her floated a dragon, laziness twirling upon the sea breeze, appearing far more relaxed than what inner turmoils ran rampart within. She looked at her dragon fondly, allowing herself a smile at the happiness her bonded attempted to inject into her through the mental link that only they were privy to. Ahead, she saw the outline of the large mass that could mean several of the beasts who resided here.

But there was only one who held such unique protrusions from their shoulder blades, only one who was a pegasus but had never taken flight, one whose feathered appendages had no hope of ever lifting the titanic mass. Thor, she thought fondly, as Akaith sped ahead of her, chortling a greeting above the great beast with happy enthusiasm. Within Akaith's claws there was an amulet, a stone encased in a glass shell, presented to the WeyrLeader and her dragon by the Seer - a gift from the Moon Goddess herself for Mirage to use as gifts to those whom she deemed worthy. With the glowing jewel, Mirage had placed a special magic, a spell unique to her and her alone, the Dark magic that allowed her to transform into a dragon.

She called out to the stallion, pushing herself into an easy trot, observing him all the while. Akaith motioned to land upon his back as her bonded approached, making the obvious observation of he is troubled. Extended her muzzle to him, Mirage hoped to brush along his shoulder, a friendly gesture that contained no romance or awkwardly deep emotions, but that of a comradely affection, an easy acceptance of one's kin. "Thor." She spoke gently, warmly, murmuring the name in greeting as well as intending to lead onto something more.

"I have been meaning to see you. I have a gift for you." Moving herself to stand alongside him, and inadvertently use him as a wind block, she positioned herself so Akaith could hop from his back onto hers, and show him the amulet. The dragon chirruped impatiently, longing to tie it amongst the dark strands of his mane. "You take more responsibility on yourself than your rank dictates Thor, I want you to know I appreciate it - I am glad to have you be a part of the Qian." With a smile curving her lips in genuine happiness, the mare looked keenly at the steed, golden eyes betraying nothing of the workings of her devious mind.

This was only the beginning of the conversation, after all.

larfsalot.deviantart.com